


Of Leather and Lace and Expensive Tastes

by sphinx81



Series: Always With the Damn Sex Pollen [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Angst and Porn, Aphrodisiacs, Begging, Bisexual Male Character, Blow Jobs, But Everything's Better Now, Collars, Confusion, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, For Fuck's Sake It's Called COMMUNICATION, Grumpy Old Men, Het, Jack and Gabriel Still Need to Learn How to Fucking Talk to Each Other Already, Kissing, Leashes, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Pining, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Reader can be any color and/or ethnicity, Reader-Insert, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex Pollen, Sexual Tension, Slash, Slow Burn, Strength Kink, They're Still Pretty Hot Though, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voice Kink, Voyeurism, let them be happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8899903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphinx81/pseuds/sphinx81
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission; get in, crack Talon's servers using Gabriel's codes from his old days infiltrating them after Overwatch fell and then get the hell out. Problem was, you had to go playing dress-up to get into the sex party one floor above the servers. And not while being escorted by your wraith boyfriend. Rather, your boyfriend's boyfriend, one Jack Morrison. Which was all well and good...until some weird-ass,  sex stimulant kind of thing got Jack all hopped up and horny. Yet strangely enough, Gabe didn't seem to mind.You were going to kill them both when you got back to Watchpoint.





	1. Chapter 1

“This is so fucking  _ridiculous,"_ you muttered, frowning at your reflection in the mirror.    

You wore a red velvet corset, trimmed in gold and laced up the front and back with black silk ribbons. It barely covered your pushed up breasts. So beneath it, you wore a black lace bra. A ruffled, black lace skirt barely grazed your upper thighs.    

“Fuck stupid-ass sex parties,” you scowled, “And fuck you especially, Gabriel, for picking this out. I still don’t see why you and Jack couldn’t have taken this undercover mission together. He’s your other half after all.”   

“And you’re my other half too,” he nodded from where he sat sprawled out on the couch behind you. Dressed in a dark hoodie and sweatpants, he was at ease. You were both in the bedroom of his quarters at the newly renovated Watchpoint Gibraltar. “So, there’s the three of us.” 

You let out a quiet chuckle. “Jack would be lost without you, as would I.” 

“At least the two of you have good taste in _something_ _,”_ Gabe smugly retorted.  

You snatched a half-filled water bottle from the dressing table and tossed it at him. Of course, his ungodly reflexes snatched it out of the air before it smacked him in the head. “Half plus half is a duo, Gabe. Not a trinity.”

"Still doesn't mean you two shouldn't get to know each other better," he shrugged, "Trust me, Jack doesn't hate you. Not even close."

"I've never thought that he does. But it's not like we have much in common," you turned around in the mirror. Jesus Christ, your ass was nearly hanging out from under the skirt. Thank god you wore a pair of black lace panties to cover it. “Not that either of us care,” you breezily continued, “We’re just glad you’re happy to share.” 

“What can I say?” he drawled, “I’ve always been accused of being greedy.” However, his thoughtful expression made you pause and stare at him in the reflection of the mirror. 

Finally catching your gaze, a smirk flew to his face. It made you nearly march over to slap it off of him. Not that you’d be successful. Even before the fallout at Swiss Headquarters, the man moved far too fast for an average human like you to match. But in his current, stabilized, and far less painful but still wraith form? It was virtually impossible to get the drop on him. So you settled for throwing up a middle finger. It only made his smirk widen into a smile.    

“Go fuck yourself, Gabe,” you grumpily retorted. Setting a foot on the chair next to you, you pulled on your fishnet thigh-highs.   

“It’ll be especially memorable since I’ll be thinking about you in that get-up,” he smoothly retorted. His hand dropped to his thigh as he continued, “Though I wonder how wet I can get you while stripping you out of it, piece by piece?”   

Heat licked along you at the images suddenly flashing in your mind. The feel of his rough hands sliding over your skin. His hungry gaze locked with yours as he kissed his way downwards while slowly undoing the ties of the corset. His head between your legs as he shoved your stocking clad thighs over his broad shoulders. Him roughly fucking you from behind while his other fingers danced over your clit.    

The third time he called your name, your head jerked upwards. “You seem,” he tilted his head at you,  _"Distracted."_     

“Just…trying to clip on these garters,” you swallowed before letting out a loud sigh. “Jack is going to be pretty embarrassed by this,” you changed the subject, “For fuck’s sake, I’m half-naked.”   

Gabriel shrugged, “You’d be surprised at how filthy the farm boy can be.”   

You gave him a look of disbelief. “Sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.”   

“All you have to do is look hard enough,” Gabriel murmured.   

“Well,” you turned back to the mirror to begin applying your makeup, “You’ve known him far longer than I.”   

Thank God for it. As it was the only way the two reached a truce after Swiss Headquarters’ destruction. Unfortunately, it took them years to realize they were after the same thing; finding out who was truly responsible for the fall of Overwatch.    

The final years of Overwatch weren’t kind to Gabriel. Or much of the old guard who remained. The media played up the broken relationship of golden boy Jack Morrison and surly, bitter Gabriel Reyes as the reason for its end. But that proved only a small part of it.    

Gabriel had grown to suspect Talon’s infiltration of Blackwatch years before the end. Mostly on account of rogue elements within his command undertaking missions and actions that he never sanctioned. Yet despite his reports to the UN of his growing concerns, they never took it seriously. For it turned out Talon had also infiltrated the UN. Using Jack’s idealism against him, they pulled the wool over his eyes.    

With Talon in both Blackwatch and the UN, it proved disturbingly easy to manipulate the former friends against each other. It all culminated on that fateful day of their confrontation at Swiss Headquarters. Seeing a rare opportunity to take out two birds with one stone, Talon-led rogue troops in Blackwatch blew it all to hell.    

In his new wraith form and driven by his rage of the betrayal, Gabriel molded himself into the feared mercenary Reaper. Impressed with his terrifying reputation, it was plenty enough bait to get Talon knocking on his door. It would be the only way he could go deep undercover to find out just how far the conspiracy against Overwatch went. As well as gain access to the list of Overwatch agents to investigate himself. Meanwhile and also fueled by the betrayal, Jack remodeled himself into Soldier: 76. A ruthless, crazed vigilante with seemingly no target, it was the complete opposite of the straight-laced, always-smiling-for-the-cameras Jack Morrison the world remembered. Much like how murderously chaotic Reaper was in direct contrast to the professional soldiering of Gabriel Reyes. Both men’s presumed deaths made an airtight cover.    

It took them nearly a decade and far too many vicious, near-death confrontations to finally hash out that they were still on the same side. Parting ways after that, Jack left the decision up to Gabriel. Not that he blamed him if he chose not join the newly reformed Overwatch. But Jack swore he’d only accept Gabriel as co-commander. Even then, they would both answer to Ana. And with Gabe getting first dibs on the missions she assigned. It was the least Jack felt he could do after the years of discord.    

Gabe eventually agreed. Though only if they and Ana immediately started training up the next generation to take over. _Because_ _you and I_ _both_ _damn well know_ _we’re all_ _getting too_ _fucking_ _old for this shit,_ _Jackie._  

So here you now were. Dressed up in some scandalous-ass lingerie in order to go undercover at a fancy, Talon-sponsored party so you could gain access to server and root out more of them. And not just any party either. A sex party.    

A fucking Dom and Sub sex party at that.    

“I still don’t know why you can’t be the one to come with me,” you rolled your eyes in Gabriel’s direction. “Winston and Angela have you all stabilized now. So it not like you’re going to go up in a puff of smoke at the drop of a hat.”   

Gabriel’s low chuckle irritated you. Especially as he suddenly misted to your side. “Maybe because I can’t go cracking a safe like you can, hmm?”   

“Where’s Sombra when you need her?” you huffed.    

Gabe clucked his tongue in disagreement. “She’ll always be a mercenary. And since this mission is so sensitive, we can’t trust her for this one. So it’s down to you.” You were thoroughly used to feel of his slightly colder than normal body-temperature. So you didn’t flinch when he dropped his palms to your shoulders. “Not to mention, I can’t go considering Talon’s pretty damn familiar with me.”   

“And who’s fault is that?” you muttered. _“Hey!”_   you cried out at his light slap to your behind.    

“If you’re going to be any good at this sub business,” he smirked against your ear, “You need to learn how to _behave.”_   Pressing his lips to the side of your neck pulled a pleased moan from you. You couldn’t resist tilting your head to grant him better access. Especially as his hands glided down your arms to rest at your waist. Your pleased sigh at the firm press of his chest against your back seemed to urge him on. Especially as one hand dipped lower to rub little circles of comfort along your upper thigh.    

As much you had little desire to, you pulled away. “Careful, I can’t have my make-up getting smeared before my mission.” Lightly pecking him on the check, you slipped from his embrace and dropped to sit on the chair in front of the mirror. “I can’t venture out looking crap. It’s bad enough I’ll be wearing this front of Morrison.”    

Gabriel’s uncanny gaze met yours in the mirror as you began arranging your hair. Since the aftermath of Swiss Headquarters, it burned flickering red. Like dying embers in a dimly lit fireplace. Yet his smile was free of any sort of malice. “Oh, I think Jack’s gonna  _love_ your little ensemble,” he arched a brow.   

“Little is precisely the damn problem,” you tugged at the skirt that rode up to your crotch. At the same time, you shot him a confused look reflected in the mirror. “Last I checked, your boyfriend didn’t exactly bat for my team. But thanks for the compliment.”   

His burst of laughter caught you off guard, “You have no idea that he-”   

His words were interrupted by Athena’s familiar voice from the ceiling.  _“Good Evening, Commander Reyes,”_ the program announced, “ _Commander Morrison has arrived. He is ten minutes early. Should I let him to know to wait?”_    

“As always,” Gabriel drawled.    

 _“Will do, Commander.”_    

“You know that I can do my own hair, right?” you waved him off.    

Gabriel shrugged. “Sure. Doesn’t mean I don’t like making him wait.”   

“You’re such a little shit,” you grinned. Leaning over, you gave him a quick kiss before shooing him out of the room.    

* * *

After pulling on the black leather boots that stopped just below the lacy tops of your stockings, you gave yourself one last check the mirror. Your eyes were smudged with dark, smoky eyeshadow. Your red lipstick was stenciled in place and matched your glossy nail polish. Your hair was piled on top of your head in the twisted coils of a complicated top knot. The long pins holding it up hid a tiny signal interrupter, a trio of memory chips and a handful of mini tasers, the tools of your trade.    

Letting out a loud huff, you snatched up your coat. “Well, here goes nothing,” you muttered, jerking the door open and wandering into the living room.  

Morrison sat on the couch flush against  Gabriel. As Gabe hungrily captured his mouth, he ran his fingers along Morrison’s cheek and down his jaw. You couldn’t help your grin. It was good to see the two so affectionate after all these years that nearly destroyed them.    

Morrison must have heard you, as he pressed a kiss to Gabriel’s temple before moving to his feet. Great, there he stood in one of the most beautifully cut suits you’d ever seen. Which meant Gabriel for sure picked it out and had it tailored to the correct specifications.

Its expensive, black fabric stretched across Jack's broad shoulders and chest. Hugging his biceps, it clung to his slim waist. His white hair was grown out nearly as long as back during his early Overwatch days. It allowed him to lightly part it to the side. His silk red shirt and black tie perfectly matched his black and red striped handkerchief. Along with the colors of your corset. His gold cufflinks also matched your trim. And the designer gold watch on his wrist.   

He looked like a dickish CEO. Albeit, an incredibly attractive, silver fox sort. Exactly the type who would attend this sort of debauched party.   

His bright blue eyes widened and flitted up and down you before coming to rest your face. Probably just dumbfounded at how undressed you were. Nothing more, considering his decisive preference for Gabriel.    

“Gabe, please tell don’t me you sent him pics of what I’d be wearing so we’d match,” you groused.   

"Uh," Jack clasped his hands behind his back and arched a brow. Wait, was he smirking? Then again, it was gone before you could confirm it. “Was I not supposed see it?”    

Gabriel’s shit-eating grin made you want to reach out and strangle him. “Now why in the world would I  _ever_ do that?”    

Marching up to him, you poked him in the chest. “You are incredibly lucky that bullets now only go  _through you_.”   

“Even if they didn’t, I’d still be fine,” he tugged you forward by the hem of your skirt before dropping a kiss to your forehead, “You always were a shitty shot.”   

“How the hell do you put up with him?” you addressed Morrison while jerking a thumb at Gabriel.    

“With a hell of a lot of patience,” Morrison shot you a knowing grin as Gabe chuckled and misted to the other side of the room. At the same time, Jack shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he smoothly added, "I'm also shallow; he's pretty damn easy on the eyes."

Wait, did Jack just _wink at you?_

Hearing rustling behind you, you distractedly turned around to see Gabe present Jack with a small, slick black box wrapped with a red ribbon. “Almost forgot,” he previously grinned, “Her costume has to be convincing, after all.”   

Jack opened it only to let out a snort of reproach. Glancing up, he looked between both of you before clearing his throat. “While I'm well-familiar with these sorts 'o things, is this really necessary, Gabe?”   

“What is it?” you narrowed your eyes. Morrison sheepishly holding up the apparent gift, you growled, “Gabriel fucking Reyes, as you kidding me?!” you pointed at the offending item.    

“Hey,” he held up his hands in supposed innocence, “Talon picked the Dom and Sub theme. Besides,  _cariño,_ it’s always best to commit to your whole design aesthetic _,_ no? "

“Don’t you go  _cariño-_ ing me, Gabe-!”   

“It'll make the pair of us look more convincing,” Morrison firmly interrupted.   

Gritting your teeth, you were about to tell Morrison where he could go shove it. Then again, it wasn’t his fault. He was just along for physically protecting you during the mission. As much you hated to admit it, guns and hand-to-hand combat had never been your specialty. So you needed the backup.    

“Fine,” you huffed. Turning your back to Morrison, you sharply waved at him, “Put it on me already.”    

Jack gave you a terse nod. At the same time, you silently mouthed, “ _Fuck you!”_ to Gabriel.    

“I love you too, sweetness _,”_  he grinned.    

You didn’t expect to shiver at the sudden, careful feel of Morrison’s calloused fingers sweeping along the base of your neck. It allowed him to lightly clip the shiny, leather collar around your throat. Its metal ring for the matching leash sat at the front of your neck. Slipping a gentle finger in between the collar and your skin to check the fit, he murmured, “Not too tight?”   

“Nope,” you popped the “P” at the end of it.   

“Good,” his breath danced along your shoulder blade, “I don’t want you feeling any sort of, uh, discomfort.”   

“My ass is barely covered and my tits are damn near about to pop out,” you lightly said, vainly trying to sound casual.  

“I hadn’t noticed,” he huffed.    

“Works for me,” you barked out a stained laugh. You hope it covered up the flare warmth that licked up your skin at the gravelly sound of his voice so close. How he pressed a reassuring palm to your bare upper back only heightened it.    

Gabe had the gall to clear his throat in front you. Gaze snapping to his, you nearly mouthed another curse at his wink at you.  “Athena, isn’t it time to go?” you snapped.  

 _“According to your mission schedule, I suggest now would be the opportune time to depart.”_    

“Thanks Athena,” you retorted. “That’s our cue,” you scurried towards the door.   

Jack rubbed the back of his neck before following you. “Guess we should get outta here then.”   

Shadow stepping to the door, Gabe brightly declared, “Enjoy yourselves!”   

“Yeah, okay,” you sarcastically replied.  

Kissing you on the cheek avoided smearing your lipstick. “This is only your fourth field mission since you've returned to Overwatch,” his voice dropped as a swirl of his black mist  enveloped you with a familiar, gentle caress. “So don’t do anything dumb and fucking reckless, like this one,” he tugged a lapel of Jack’s suit, “Promise me, babydoll. _”_   

“I _promise_ , Gabe,” you genuinely replied. A long, affectionate sweep of  your fingers through his messy curls had him letting out sigh of relief before he leaned over to give Morrison a lingering kiss.   

You barely paid attention to their exchange of murmured words and quick kisses on account of your usual pre-mission jitters. Still, you couldn't miss the flush that flew to Morrison’s cheeks. Or how Gabriel embraced him in a hug of sweeping black mist before sending him off.

“After you,” Jack said while opening the door.   

“Thanks,” you nodded.    

The elevator ride up to the roof to the helipad was awkwardly silent. Morrison kept a firm hand on yours to help climb into the helicopter. Probably on account of your heels. Once he programmed in the coordinates, it roared to life before settling into stealth mode. As this was a party hosting all sorts of wealthy sorts, arriving in a helicopter wouldn’t appear out of place.    

Hopefully, everything would go to plan. Then again, with your luck, when the hell did  _that_ ever happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Outfit inspiration (slightly NSFW), http://imgur.com/a/GsO6z though the reader can absolutely be any color and/or ethnicity.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, this turned into some sort of James Bond spy adventure thing. Apparently, I like plot with my porn. Anyway, I hope I got Jack’s voice right. He’s proving oddly hard for me to write for some reason.

Most of the world had good reason to think Strike Commander Jack Morrison died in the explosion at Swiss Headquarters. Which is why no one seemed to make the connection to Soldier: 76. He still remained understandably cautious. So in lieu of his usual tactical visor for this mission, he slid on a mask that covered half his face a few minutes before your scheduled landing. Painted in gold-flecked crimson on one side with a checkered gold, red and black pattern on the other, it reminded you of a carnevale mask. To avoid any potential recognition, you tied on a black lace mask. Considering the clandestine nature of this sort of party, neither of you looked out of place.

With three helipads side by side, you weren’t the only ones arriving on the rooftop of the Hong Kong office building. Jack nimbly leapt out if the helicopter first. Before you could gather yourself, the feel of his strong hands at your waist pulled you out of the chopper and firmly set you on your feet.

“Oh, thanks,” you uttered.

“No problem,” he nodded. Before you could mull over his physical contact, he pulled out the leash for your collar from an inner pocket of his suit jacket. You didn’t miss the pink rising to his cheeks as he softly said, “Maybe I should uh, put this on you now?”

You looked around to see another couple a few feet away from you. An older woman in a short, layered tulle skirt, leather bodice with metal rings lacing up the front and spiked heels smirked as her shirtless sub eagerly nuzzled her shoulder. They also both wore masks. She clipped her leash to his collar before pulling him forward for a deep kiss.

“When in Rome, right?” you waved Jack forward, “We need to be convincing.”

He surprised you with how carefully he clicked the leash into place. As well as the way his fingertips lingered at your shoulder. Touch brushing upwards to your jaw, his warm, azure eyes locked with yours.  You swallowed down a gasp as he leaned forward and pressed his nose to your temple. His scent of soap, whatever spicy cologne he wore and…pulse munitions? Regardless, the combination caused a flutter in your stomach.

To anyone else, it looked as though he was giving his pet the usual instructions. How his arm wrapped around your back and his hand grazed your bottom completed the illusion. Along with the fact that this position caused you to now be pressed all up on him. It had to be all for show. Yep, that was all it boiled down to.

Professionals, you were both _professionals._

“You be sure to let me know if I’m being too rough with you, alright?” he quietly rumbled out the order. At the same time, he gave your leash the barest of tugs.

His voice against you had you taking a deep breath. “Suuure,” you drew out.

“I mean it,” he insisted, “Above all else, I’m here to protect you-”

“So that I can complete the mission,” you cut him off.

“Yeah, sure, for the _misson_. And to get you back to Gabe in one piece,” he evenly said, “‘Cause he’ll kill the shit outta me if I don’t.” You couldn’t hold back a low chuckle at his admission. “He needs the both of us, after all,” Jack added.

You shrugged, “I mean, you two have known each other forever.”

“Doesn’t make you any less to us,” Jack insisted.

 _Us?_ your mind whirled.

“Again, you ever feel like I’m doing something you aren’t…okay with, you make damn sure to call me out, affirmative?” His gaze was so full of trust that you couldn’t resist shaking your head in agreement. “I need to hear it directly from that pretty mouth of yours,” he empathized.

Your lips curled with confusion at his easy compliment. “I’ll let you know. Definitely,” you slowly replied. You hoped your voice sounded far steadier than you felt.

“That’s my girl.” You oddly didn’t feel a hint of annoyance at his praise. If anything, the reinforcement left you, well, pleased.

 _The fuck is going on with me?!_ your mind raced.

Jack took the end of the leash and moved forward. When you tried to walk behind him, he shook his head and stopped to allow you to catch up. His arm slid back around your waist to haul you into his side.

“You’re rather possessive,” you observed.

“You’re on  _my_ watch now.”

Hong Kong’s love affair with hologram displays and 3D advertisements cast the night sky with a mesmerizing array of colors. Nonetheless, the group of four armed guards at the door of the roof quickly reminded you of the mission at hand. A stunning blonde woman stood in front of them with a holopad gripped in her leather-gloved hand. Her short hair slicked back, she wore a sharply tailored, grey, pin-striped suit. Her verdant eyes took you both in with a cold sweep. However, Jack’s confident swagger and how he smoothly provided her with the forged invitation put you at ease.

“Welcome, Mr. Grant,” the woman addressed Jack by his alias after a wave of her hand swept up a hologram programmed into the invite. That she took your fingerprints on her tablet wasn’t a big deal. You’d simply erase them from the system once you cracked the mainframe. A few seconds and the hologram flashed from red to blue to grant you access. “I hope you and your pet,” her gaze flitted over you with a thin smile, “Enjoy yourselves to the fullest.”

You inwardly scoffed at her insinuation while Jack tilted his head in acknowledgement as he brushed past her to the elevator. In front of it stood another beefy and armed guard. He didn’t give either of you a second glance as he punched in the code.

You rode it down to a middle floor of the skyscraper. When it opened its doors with a muted ding, you sucked in your breath through your teeth at the revelry.

The party took up an entire floor. The glossy, black glass walls were shot through with various pulsing neon colors. They spun and twirled in time with the heavy bass music that seemed to come from all directions. The ceiling was of matching black glass, though the bright neon curved overhead to form an undulating dome. In the center of it all was a raised dancefloor. Like everything else, it was black and back-lit with the neon shimmering through its squares. The only sources of light, there were plenty of dark, discreet corners.

Four-postered beds lined the perimeter of the room. Each of them contained heavy velvet curtains that could be drawn closed to conceal whatever activities one decided to get up to. Within the open space between the beds and the dancefloor were various lounge areas. Each contained a handful of leather chairs and chaise lounges. At their centers were bars and waiters wandering around with silver trays of food.

Well over a couple of hundred guests had arrived and there was room for plenty more. Most of them were dressed as the pair of you. The doms generally more clothed with subs less so. The braver ones wore only body paint. All in all, you weren’t nearly as naked as quite a few of them. The ratio of male and female doms and subs was also relatively even.

“Holy _shit,”_ you muttered, head swiveling back and forth to take it all in.

“You got that right,” Jack let out a low whistle. Casting him a sideways glance, you took in how his eyes constantly scanned the area. No doubt looking for exits and sizing up the security scattered throughout the crowd. Once a soldier, always a soldier.

His big, warm hand flew to the small of your back. You found yourself leaning into it as he guided you through the crowd to one of the beds. This part of the room was furthest from the security cameras and closest to the emergency exit. Also, the curtains offered plenty of concealment before you had to physically break into the server room a floor below. Dropping to sit on the bed, Jack patted the space next to him before giving the leash a gentle tug downwards. You sunk down while your eyes swept the room for any additional threats. Jack lightly pulling you into his lap to sit sideways, you easily felt his honed muscle pressed against you. Most of the subs were in similar positions and within easy reach of their masters.

You were caught off guard by the brush of his lips to your brow. Soft and dry, they barely swept your skin. His stubble left a pleasant tingle as his words washed over you. “Whatever you need, just ask.”

“To successfully finish this mission,” you breathed.

“Agreed,” he dropped his other arm across your lap. Wrapping the loose end of the leash around his knuckles left it with plenty of give before his fingers started stroking your knees in random patterns. Which made it rather difficult to concentrate.

Turning over the black leather cuff on your wrist revealed a small digital keyboard hidden within it. The contacts you wore scanned your retinas in lieu of a password. Their outline briefly glowed green before shifting to holographic projections that only you could see per your current settings. An adjustment of a pin in your hair granted you your own wi-fi.

Blackwatch always invested in their agents and you were no exception. Hence your brain enhancements rapidly calculating formulas. They sent artificially augmented nerve signals down your arms and through your fingertips. Those in turn relayed messages racing along enhanced nerves of your spinal column and up to your  cerebral cortex. All implanted just beneath the surface of your skin, their blocky matrix shimmered green when engaged. Your favorite color, of course. In the years between Overwatch’s fall and recall, you continued upgrading them. They were currently set to cloaking to ensure they weren’t visible during this undercover op. A twitch of your hand manipulated the holographic models in your contacts.

You enabled your algorithms that incorporated Gabe’s old codes he’d swiped while deep undercover in Talon. They started their work at breaking the encryption. Watching them spin, you swiftly blinked three times to clear your vision.

“How long ‘til we make for the server room?” Jack’s words caressed the shell of your ear.

“64 minutes for the first stage of this,” you softly answered.

“You’re very specific.” Was that amusement in his voice?

“What can I say?” you shrugged, “I’m the technical type.”

“Brains and relentless resolve?” he gave your knee a gentle squeeze. It sent an unexpected spark up your skin. “A deadly combination.”

“Against these Talon bastards?” you growled, “Like they deserve a lick of mercy after all they’ve done.”

His grunt agreement with your sentiments vibrated through his chest. Especially since he'd wrapped an arm around the back of your waist that allowed his free hand to rest on tops of your thigh-high fishnets. Every so often, his fingertips toyed with the frilly edges of your skirt. Combined with how he still rubbed your knees made you take a deep inhale through your nose. This close to him had his distinct scent filling your nose.

Before you realized it, your mind drifted to things you had _no right_ to be thinking.

_Jack’s unyielding bulk all on top of you and using the leash to pull you in for a desperate kiss as he fucked you into the bed behind the slightly parted curtains…_

You mentally railed at yourself to get it together. Jack clearly preferred Gabriel. Then again, Gabe would definitely get a kick out of this sort of play with the both of you. Not that you minded in the slightest…

“You okay?” Jack’s voice startled you out of your lecherous thoughts. Cupping your chin, he tilted your face towards him. “You look annoyed.” He placed the back of his hand to your forehead, “You're not burning up, but I still don't like it. I’ll grab you a water.” He dropped a kiss to your cheek before smoothly moving to his feet.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Anything for you.” A trail of his fingers at your inner wrist and he was gone.

He had to be giving you all of this attention just for show, right?

_Right?_

The event was in full swing now. Bodies packed every corner of the room and all of the beds and seats were taken. The music cranking up, couples and groups grinded up against each other to the thrumming beat. A few moans started filling the air. The closest ones coming from the guys in the bed next to yours, it didn’t take much imagination to know what they were doing. A breathless laugh was followed by the smack of something hitting flesh. Then gasps and a series of growling moans.

As unsurprising as it was, it still didn’t stop the heat starting to curl over you. You slid further back on the bed and closed one of the curtains as the noises got louder.

_You pinned between both of them, one mercilessly taking your from behind while the other buried a hand in your hair, your mouth on his cock as his fist wrapped around the leash and tugged you forward to take more of him down your throat…_

You needed to stop this right. The fuck. _Now._

“Here you go.”

The water bottle nearly collided with your chest before you managed to catch it. Jack dropped back onto the bed to prop himself against the pillows lining the headboard. Drink in hand, its glowing liquid was layered orange and yellow in the frosted glass. The same as some of the shades of neon decorating the room. You weren’t concerned about the liquor since it was near impossible for him to get drunk; due to his SEP enhancements, it’d be metabolized out of his system far too quickly for any ill effects. Plus, he better blended into the party.

“Never took you to have a fruity drink preference,” you cleared your throat before sucking down some water.

“It was either this or water,” he snorted, “All of ‘em come in ridiculous colors. Bartender said something about not wanting to clash with the décor,” he waved around.

“Pretentious bullshit,” you muttered.

You caught Jack's grin at that as you slid back in next to him. He threw an arm around your shoulders that had you half lying down with your side flush against him. Drawing up one of your knees, he didn’t seem to mind you resting it on his leg. You appreciated his heightened body heat since you wore so little.

Whoever was next door got rowdier. Your arm slung across Jack’s middle, you felt him clench for a few seconds before he went slack. “They’re…enthusiastic,” he muttered into your neck.

“No shit.” Your voice was higher than you preferred.

“Not half bad,” his low words swirled around you.

Perusing the party for any new threats in a vain attempt to distract yourself, you retorted, "They're certainly not."

That got an easy laugh out of him. “I meant _the drink.”_

“Ah,” you awkwardly said, “Sorry-”

“No need for that,” he gave your upper arm a squeeze, “Besides, there’s not a thing half-bad about you…huh, this actually ain’t terrible,” he downed more of his drink.

There was that praise again. Honestly, you were starting to crave it

“You wanna try this?” he held up his glass.

You couldn’t stop yourself from teasing, “You’re not trying ply me with alcohol to have your way with me, are you, sir?”

“If you think I’ve gotta resort to dangerous, uncalled for and cheap tricks like that,” his eyes burned bright behind his mask, “Then I’m doing it all wrong,” he drawled.

Lips parting, you shakily exhaled. You swore you saw his gaze dart down to your mouth, but it was too dark to be sure. “Here,” he murmured with a soft tug of the leash to pull you closer, “If you want.”

You reached up to take the drink, only for him to place it at your lips. He carefully tilted it, eyes never leaving yours as you took a sip. It sweetly fizzed on your tongue before turning tart. Sliding down your throat, its sharp tendrils wisped through you. A run of your tongue along your lower lip savored the unusual flavor.

“Good, huh?”

“Tasty,” you swept your fingers up his side. “Shame I have to keep focused, or I’d send you off to go fetch me one of those.”

“And here I was thinking I’m playing the dominant one,” he hummed. Lightly wrapping his hand around the leash had you tilting up your chin. His glass at your mouth earned you another sip.

“I thought masters are supposed to nurture their subs?” you arched a brow, “Authority is earned with respect, no?”

He settled back against the pillows and nudged you closer. It had you dropping your head to his shoulder. You told yourself it was the best position to continuing to observe the crowd and most decidedly not anything to do with his burly frame nestled to you. “That’s an approach they definitely reinforced in the military,” he replied.

With less than an hour to go before infiltrating the server room, you two fell into casual conversation. It turned out to be the longest you’d ever talked to each other without Gabe in the room. Every so often, Jack went to grab more drinks. Though only for himself due to the nature of your part of the mission.

Before you knew it, the holo-timer in your contact flashed. “It’s time,” you sat up.

Jack rocked to his feet before he took your hand and pulled you up. Interlacing his fingers with yours while clasping the leash in his other hand, he led you through the raucous crowd.

* * *

Since it was just as dark as in the party, there were plenty of people engaged in all matter of activities out in the hallways. Their writhing bodies and noises of pleasure made it obvious what they were up to.

“It’s like we’ve stumbled onto a porn set,” you huffed. Your skin felt hot, your palm in Jack’s hand sweaty.

“Uh-huh,” he rumbled next to you.

Now, it was a matter of making it to the floor below the party without getting caught. A hasty hack of the cameras seamlessly looped the footage to hide you from surveillance. Your contacts picked up on nearly a dozen guards’ biometric signatures as you moved. Some of them were making their rounds towards you. However, they were still on the other side of the wall by your mark of them.

You reached for a long hairpin that concealed a taser and balled your fist. “We’ve got three incoming. I’ll taze one of them. I’m sure you can handle the other two.”

“And where do we hide them after we take ‘em out?” Jack asked, waving around the hallway. There wasn’t a desk, closet or access door to be seen. “Someone’s gonna stumble across them out here in the open.”

You admittedly had no answer for him.

Without warning, Jack snatched you by the upper arm and spun you around to face him. Your confused expression must have been obvious, as he gave you a once-over before he quietly asked, “You trust me?”

“Without question,” you honestly answered.

Boxing you in against the wall, the press of his solid mass against you left you breathless. “Follow my lead,” he murmured, “And um, sorry ‘bout this.”

“About wha-?”

One hand pinning your wrists above your head, his other tugged your leash forward at the same time his mouth captured yours.

Well, you sure in the fuck weren’t expecting _that._

Mouth insistent against yours, a nibble of your lips had you opening to him. His tongue swept inside in lazy exploration. It sent a thrill of heat whipping through you that pooled between your legs. Especially with your leash wrapped tightly around his hand to direct your movements. That you pressed your wrists up against him to find his grasp unyielding left you heady and reeling.

Holy hell, the man could kiss. All while remaining utterly in control.

A ragged moan escaped your mouth as he retreated. Eyes fluttering open, you would’ve slid to the floor if not for his firm grip.

“I take it the guards bypassed us?” his thumb slipped to your bottom lip. It took every ounce of your self-control not to suck it into your mouth.

“Your…distraction,” you slowly blinked, “Actually...worked?”

You tried to cover yourself by glancing around his shoulder. Thankfully, all three of the guards had moved on. But judging by the spark in Jack’s bright, blue eyes as he tilted your chin back to meet him, he didn’t believe you. At the same time, it wasn't hard to miss how blown his pupils were.

Interesting that.

You closed your eyes as he dropped his head again. Except he didn’t kiss you. “Close call,” he murmured instead.

You gave a shaky shrug. “So it seems.” You missed his warmth as he ducked away and unhanded you. “The mission,” you muttered, “Perhaps we should go ahead with that…this’ll be interesting to go over with Gabe during debrief.”

“Considering he personally put together this op, we’ve gotta make sure to relay every detail,” Jack breezily said behind you. Again, you didn’t have an answer for him. 

You both reached the server room uninterrupted and overrode the locks. Jack watching your back, you uplinked into the main server to set up the last of the decryption process. You also removed the record of both your fingerprints that were taken when you arrived.

The room was so dimly lit with deep blue backlight that you could barely see your hand in front of your face. It was also chilly due to the numerous, industrial strength ceiling fans and cooling systems necessary keep the servers from overheating. You soon found yourself shivering. Before you realized it, Jack’s suit jacket was dropped around your shoulders. “Can’t afford to have you go freezing to death,” he simply said at your surprised expression.

“I won’t argue that,” you gratefully replied, sliding your arms into the sleeves. “How are you?”

“Barely feel a thing.” 

 _His SEP enhancements,_ you thought to yourself.

“Would you look at that?” you waved up a pulsing image at a sudden flash in your contacts, “Looks like we’ve got more company.” It now showed five guards, each of them armed with a pulse rifle and sidearm. They were also connected to each other with coms. “Five of them. I don’t think your earlier...distraction is going to work in this case,” you tossed out.

“Ain’t _that_ a shame,” Jack retorted. You whipped your head around to take in his enigmatic expression as he loosened his tie. Reaching out, he stuffed it into the pocket of his suit jacket you wore. A flurry of his fingers unclasped the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. Likely for better mobility. You could still appreciate the exposure of more skin.

Running your calculations, you realized, “All of their weapons are electronic-”

“Disabled?”

“In seven seconds. And...done.”

“How’s your hand to hand?”

“Gabe ran me through the usual training pre-op, so I’m serviceable. You?”

He scoffed, “You’re actually asking me that?”

“Oh, I forgot that I’m with the _infamous_ Soldier: 76.”

“Cheeky.”

“Someone’s been hanging around Lena as of late, mate.”

“Look who’s talkin’…closest target?”

“Ten yards. Behind the sixth server from the left. None of them realize their pulse weapons aren’t working.”

The feel of his hand suddenly gripping your wrist had you looking up to meet his masked face. “Park yourself here,” he firmly ordered. Eyes full of concern, his scarred mouth was set in a grim line. “You complete your mission extracting that info and I’ll protect you to complete mine. Understood?”

You adamantly nodded. “Yes sir.”

You didn’t expect him to lean forward and mutter against your ear, “Stay safe, agent.” He was gone before you could register it.

Well then.

Sliding to the floor, you crammed yourself into the corner behind one of the larger servers. It was times like these you wish you had full cloaking abilities. A pity such modifications always resulted in uncontrollable nausea for you.

Oh well.

You were able to witness Jack going to work through the walls and cases housing the servers with your contacts. The first guard had no chance, taken out with a silent chokehold from behind. The second was brutally knocked out against the hard concrete of the wall before he could stumble across the first unconscious guard. The third and fourth attempted to double team Jack. However, they barely landed a couple of punches before he proceeded to utterly beat the shit out of them.

_Savage._

You almost felt sorry for them. Then again, fuck Talon. From here to eternity, fuck 'em.

That left a fifth guard whose signature disappeared as soon as Jack choked out the first guard. The elevators hadn’t been engaged. Nor had you heard any chatter on the guards’ frequency you’d tapped into. A flick of your fingers brought up the status of the final encryption crack of the server. 78% to go.

Where the hell was the fifth guard?

“On your feet, hands where I can see them. I’d rather not put a hole in that darling face of yours.”

The accented, male voice made you freeze. You were backed into the corner but no one was to be seen. That was until the air gleamed and a pale man flickered into reality in front of you. He proved nearly as tall as Jack but leaner. His pinstriped suit matched the black and white striped frames of his sunglasses. Ash blond hair shaved into a floppy undercut, a thick streak of black sliced through the middle of it. The bare sides of his head contained a swirling pattern of embedded silver tabs. They matched the color of the cloaking he stepped out of.

Your main problem was the pulse gun steadily pointed at your chest. You hoped he hadn’t switched it to automatic.

You gradually got to your feet and raised your hands. Two blinks of your contacts to scan him. Yep, he was definitely the fifth signature. You couldn’t see his eyes behind his shades. Nevertheless, the way he tilted his head up and down before letting out a whistle told you all you needed to know. You skin crawled as he took another step towards you.

“I warned these dolts that some enterprising type would attempt to access the servers with the opportunity of this little gathering,” he sniffed, “But did they listen? No. Just wanted a bunch of rich dicks  in a room to bribe the shit out of them."

Well, that certainly explained the sex party part. Catching rich, influential people on camera getting up to all sorts of naughty business was perfect blackmail fodder.

The guy pointing a gun at you muttered, _"Så meget malplacerede stolthed._ It has always been their downfall.”

You could’t pinpoint it to a specific country or language, but his accent sounded Scandanavian. ”Honestly, it's astounding I’ve only come across you and that geriatric, what do you people call him?” he tapped the muzzle of his gun against his chin as though in deep thought. ”Ah yes, Captain America _knock-off."_

You refused to say a word, instead steadying your breathing to keep from lashing out. Your hand also drifted to your hair.

”So, _smukke_ ,” he clucked his tongue, "You'll make a nice little morsel of bait to draw out the good old Cap'n," his thumb flicked the side of his gun to charge it. Except there was no recognizable whir.

Your training kicked in at the opportunity of his confusion. A yank of a clip out of your hair had you hurling in into his chest. It sent satisfying sparks of white electricity enveloping him with a fiery crackle. He seized and twitched before a guttural yell was ripped from his throat. The hand holding the gun twisted with the electrocution, causing it to fly from his hand and land in front of you. You jumped back to avoid the kick of sparks from it. A few more seconds and he collapsed to the floor. His sunglasses flew from his head to reveal his steel grey eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Get wrecked,” you spat. Waiting until the electricity dissipated, you stepped over him.

There were no new signatures in the room. Wait, where the hell was Jack?

“Someone got the shit shocked out of ‘em,” a gravelly voice startled you from behind. Whipping around and snatching a second taser pin out of your hair, you let out a sigh of relief at Jack leaning against another server. His arms were casually crossed with his mask in one hand. He took in the unconscious goon, toeing at his twitching foot.

Sliding the clip back into your hair, you shrugged, “He was a creep.”

“Good enough for me,” Jack nodded. “Server status?”

“89%,” you looped your fingers in the air, “Four minutes to completion.” You glanced back at the tased guard and narrowed your eyes. Marching back over to him, you scanned and uploaded his full biometric profile.

“He didn’t sound like he worked in Talon itself. More like he was hired for just this job,” you clarified at Jack’s dubious expression. “Plus,” you pointed at the silver enhancements in his head, “Those aren’t market-grade cloakers. I can pick up all the standard ones and quite a lot of the fancier models. Yet he didn’t ping.”

“Looks like you’ve got some new research to delve into when we get back,” Jack replied. “Meantime,  no matter the footage doesn’t show anything, someone’s gonna ask for check-ins from this lot,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “We should-”

“Extraction complete!” you announced at the hologram flashing in your eye line. A flex of your fingers uploaded them to the  memory chips disguised as pins in your hair. You handed Jack back his jacket and he slid it on, along with his mask.

“Time to go, safecracker.”

You had to re-enter the party to access the relatively unmonitored crate elevator. Getting out from there wouldn’t be a problem. Then again, neither of you were expecting the sight that met you as you surreptitiously ducked back into the rear of the festivities.

“This is certainly a _party_ , _”_ Jack growled.

“More like a...fuck fest?!” you wheezed. 

The music still dramatically pulsed, but no one was paying attention to it. Instead, they were splayed out across nearly every inch of the floor and furniture. And in all kinds of compromising positions. Groans of ecstasy echoed around you. Some of the furniture was actually broken. Jerking themselves off, duos, threesomes, groups, no one appeared to give a single fuck about anything outside of that. You scanned for any signatures of the guards. Not a single one was to be found.

It was an orgy. Even the air smelled of sweat and sex.

“Why is _everyone_ like this?!” you froze.

“No god-damned clue,” Jack clenched his teeth.

“We’ve got to,” you gulped, “Got to get the hell out of here!”

“Stairs,” Jack snatched you by the elbow and dragged you back out into the hallway, _“Now.”_

Everything happened in a blur. You somehow managed to disable the alarms before Jack kicked in the emergency exit door.

“We’re on the 43rd floor,” you muttered as he held out his arm to you, “So much for heels.” He had no trouble supporting your weight on just his forearm while you made use of him for balance as you shucked off your boots.

Easily swiping them from your hands, he smirked, “This is why I always wear sensible shoes.”

“Fuck you, you’re a man,” you lightly retorted. Anything to settle you after what you’d just witnessed. Though a niggling at the back of your mind still questioned why the entire group was acting a similar manner. Still, you were relieved at how his smirk deepened into a grin at your curse. “I had to ‘commit to the aesthetic,’” you held up your fingers in air quotes. “I can’t roll into a sex party, excuse me, an _orgy,_ in sneakers or combat boots. We would’ve been shot and tossed off the roof looking like that.”

“Gabe’s always been the damn fashion plate,” he fondly replied as you both made your way down the stairs. “Wonder what he’s gonna knit us for Christmas?”

You barked out a laugh in a further effort at calm. “Probably something that’s going to make me ashamed that I bought his gift at a store. No matter how many months I searched for it. Or how much I spent.”

“Sounds ‘bout right.”

Getting out of the building was slow. Talon didn’t pull any punches on this front, partitioning the security floor by floor. You were forced to stop in each stairway on your way down and disable each system independently. You would’ve have been anxious if not for Jack on your six. Luckily, no one saw you as you finally spilled out into alleyway behind the building. Jack hailed a cab as soon as you hit the street. Taking precautions, you only took it a few blocks before jumping out and hailing another one. Doing this a handful of times to avoid anyone on your tail, you arrived at the safe house without incident.

You looked forward to winding down after batshit insanity at the end of the op. 

* * *

The safe house was tucked away in the Tsim Sha Tsui neighborhood of Hong Kong on the Kowloon Peninsula. A tourist area with a few ex-pats and expensive hotels, it was easy to get lost in the crowds that seemed to be around 24/7. Your safe house would serve as one of the hotel rooms from a boutique hotel that Overwatch owned via various shell companies. It was outfitted with plenty of surveillance. There were also local Overwatch agents a distress call away. So you’d be safe for the night before departing in the morning for the mainland. From there, it’d be a stealth chopper back home to Gibraltar.

You couldn’t miss how Jack was becoming increasingly tactile. Whether it was how his arm clung to your waist during the cab rides. Or his fingers tracing your lower back at check-in in the lobby. Or how he pressed his palm into your side when he ordered to you wait by front door as he did a security sweep of the room. Not to mention how he took your hand and led you in when he was satisfied it was safe.

You didn’t exactly mind it. 

As with all safe houses and rooms, this one was well stocked. It contained plenty of toiletries, a change of both civilian and military clothes, rations and weapons hidden in various false floor tiles and cabinets. The walls and windows were also blast resistant, bullet proof and lined to jam any non-Overwatch signals and frequencies.

It also held just one, king-sized bed.

Jack must have seen your doubtful expression at the sight of it as he pulled off his mask. He snorted, “I’ll take the floor-”

“The bed is huge. Both of us will fit just fine.”

You hoped you sounded nonchalant as you also removed your mask. Watching him slide off his jacket and toss it over the back of the chair behind the desk in the corner didn’t help. Unbuttoning his shirt revealed the pale muscle of his chest. Not even the white scars slicing across his pecs took away from it. You also took in how despite that he and Gabe were the same height, he was broader with his weight more densely packed. Gabe was all wonderfully carved, graceful muscle with a fantastic ass. Jack was built like a brick wall. Either way, the two of them were literally engineered to fuck shit up.

You really shouldn't be thinking _this_ hard about how it would be between the two of them.

“If you’re that uncomfortable,” you threw up your hands, “We’ll just stick the pillows in between us. They’re extra ones in the closet.”

Jack let out a ragged sigh. “I’ve slept on way worse.”

“All the more to enjoy a little bit of luxury for once,” you retorted.

“This is highly inappropriate-”

“Only if you make it so,” you huffed. “I’m far from a child, so I think I can control myself for _one night_.” You flashed him a strained grin in an attempt make it a joke. How he pressed his mouth into a thin line while giving you a hard stare made it clear he didn’t agree. It took a hell of a lot of willpower for you to hold his gaze.

After what seemed an eternity, he grit his teeth. “Fine. Have it your way. We’ll share the damn bed.”

“Good,” you yawned, “Now I won’t have to fight an old man to get my way.”

His head jerked up at your teasing, his eyes narrowing. It caused you to catch your breath. Your stomach dropped in dread at his coming reprimand. Instead, he mumbled, “That how you see me, agent? As some useless, old fart?”

“Why in the hell would you ever think-?!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes. Why was he slipping back into hard-assy, gruff, Soldier: 76 Morrison? Snapping your mouth shut to gather yourself, you adamantly said, “You're better than this lame-ass arguement-”

“ _Disagreement,_ agent.”

“And I thought Gabe had the predisposition to pettiness," you snapped.

The vicious glint in Jack's icy eyes sent your heart pounding. And not in a good way. You knew he would _never_ lay an unwanted hand on you. It still didn't stop you from taking  a step back. 

You took a deep breath, "You think I’d tolerate undertaking a mission with someone I don’t trust with my life?”

Jack shrugged, voice low and rasping, “You obviously weren’t too keen on going on the mission in the first place.”

Swallowing, you crossed your arms. “Perhaps because I felt uncomfortable as hell in this outrageous getup in front of you?” Crossing your arms tighter across your chest for emphasis, you muttered, “For fucks sake, my tits are barely contained in this. I didn’t want to, um, embarrass you. I don’t know…” you lamely trailed off and looked away.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, you heard the bed shift. A few steps echoed on the floor and he was directly in front of you. And so close that you were forced to rock back on your heels to meet his gaze. It was thankfully warmer now as he took you in with concern and…something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Don’t think you're lookin' ridiculous,” his rumble washed over you, “Far from it, in fact.”

“I mean, your skill set in the field speaks for itself. I only work with the best, you should know that by now,” you rambled before realizing what he’d said. “Wait…what?”

He took your hands in his incredibly warm ones. Leaning forward, his words brushed your cheek, “I _said_ , I don’t think you look terrible in your…costume.”

You froze. It caused him to drop your hands like they scalded him and back away. It was then that you noticed the slick sheen of sweat on his brow. As well as how flushed he appeared. The heat radiating off of him was also far higher than normal, despite that he naturally ran hotter than usual. One of his hands balling into a fist at his side, his other hand flexed in and out of it. His pupils were blown while his chest seemed to rise and fall with his increasingly shallow breathing.

Without thinking, you reached out and pressed your palm to his forehead. He strangely leaned into it, eyes fluttering shut. “Jesus, Jack,” you flinched and pulled away, “You’re burning the hell up. You need to head back to base?” You turned around to get to the spare satellite phones stashed away in one of the nightstand drawers against the bed. “We can leave tonight. Better yet, get you to a hospital-”

“I’m fine.” Except it came out as a hiss, “It’s...warm as hell… _really_ warm in here.”

Turning back around to face him, you took in a deep breath at him unbuttoning his shirt completely and pulling its hem from his pants. He now stood there in front of you nearly shirtless. “You’re sweating like crazy,” you snorted.

Glancing towards the bathroom, he stalked towards it. “I need a shower,” he huffed.

Before you could insist on leaving, the bathroom door slammed closed. The sound of water being turned on indicated that he was apparently following through with his announcement.

With nothing better to do but wait for him to finish, you snapped in one of the memory chips of the  server information into the spare tablet the safe house provided. As it was Overwatch’s tech, it was encrypted. It allowed you to start  the upload directly to Gabe's servers. At the same time, you listened for any sound of distress coming from the bathroom. You hoped you wouldn’t hear any loud thumps indicating that Jack collapsed to the floor from whatever was affecting him.

After what seemed an eternity, he emerged from the bathroom. His damp, white t-shirt was tightly stretched across his defined chest. Despite his loose black sweatpants, they were slung low on his hips. He thankfully avoided looking at you as he dropped to sit on the edge of the bed. Or else he would’ve caught you gawking. Staring out the window at the skyline seemed to be his biggest focus at the moment.

"I’m going to take a long bath,” you darted towards the bathroom, “You don’t need anything from there for a while, do you?”

“Take as long as you like,” Jack muttered, wiping a towel across his hair.

Who were you to argue that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _”Så meget malplacerede stolthed "_ \- “So much misplaced pride” in Danish. 
> 
> _"smukke”_ – “beautiful” in Danish. Term of endearment.


	3. Chapter 3

You couldn’t help leaning with your hands on the marble countertop of the bathroom and taking a deep breath. Focusing on your image in the mirror under the unforgiving fluorescent lights overhead made you wince at the sight of your smeared makeup. Particularly, your faded lipstick. It served as a reminder of Jack’s “distraction” near the server room. Yet as brief as it was, you couldn’t get it out of your head.

God  _damn it._

Popping out your contacts and putting them away along with the various pins in your hair disguised as your tools made it feel as though the mission was actually over. Brushing your teeth and washing your face also left you feeling more refreshed. Not until you were about to strip down for a bath did you notice you forgot a change of clothes from the bedroom. “Awesome,” you sarcasticly muttered, yanking open the door and wandering back out.

The TV mounted on the wall was tuned to an international news station in English. Thing was, that wasn’t the loudest noise I the room. Your name was. Except it was being alternately moaned and rasped by a voice you knew all too well.

No wonder Jack didn’t hear you leaving the bathroom. Lying on the bed with his legs spread wide, his hand steadily worked up and down his thick, heavy cock freed from his sweatpants. Sweaty face flushed, his other arm was thrown over his closed eyes. It caused his t-shirt to ruck up enough up expose the sculpted lines of his abs as his hips jerked and rolled in time with his hand. All while your name fell from his lips like a desperate chant for deliverance.

It was impossible to look away. Heat flaring through you, your fingers clenched and unclenched as you stood rooted to the spot. Especially as his grunts deepened at the same time his hand sped up. Time seemed to stop as he started bucking his hips up off the bed. You had no idea how long you remained transfixed as he worked himself closer and closer to the edge.

Without warning, a pleased curse bubbled up from his throat in a hoarse groan before his snarl of release echoed around you. A trembling heave and he came in thick spurts into his hand. A few tugs drawing it out, he finally collapsed back onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

 _“Shit,”_  he exhaled. Firmly wiping his hand on his towel and gulping down large mouthfuls of air, he slowly sat up.

Whelp, that pretty much destroyed your, "Jack's only into dudes" assumptions. Though you would've preferred finding out in a more subtle fashion.

Chest heaving, you attempted to silently back up into the bathroom. Except a floorboard decided to be a bastard and creak under your heel.

He was up off the bed like a shot. Glassy gaze landing squarely on you, his eyes widened in shock. His mouth silently opened and closed a few times while he wildly looked everywhere around the room but at you. Rocking from foot to foot, he balled his hands at his sides.

“I don’t…that was…can’t explain why I can’t…I can’t control?” he hiccupped out.

“Why didn’t you...?” you haltingly whispered. He could only close his eyes and take a trembling breath in reply. Temporarily speechless, you settled for clutching your hands on the back of a chair next to the desk in the corner. “Why?” you deliberately began again, “Why didn’t you say anything to me?!”

Crossing and re-crossing his arms, he suddenly gave a twitchy nod before slapping a hand to the back of his neck. “No excuses… _no…_ should be able to control my fuckin’ self,” he growled. “'M sorry…sorry,” he slurred, running a shaking hand up and down his face. “Can’t...seem to stop…to stop… _thinking about,”_ he was barely intelligible. “Shoulda never…uncalled for-”

“Jack!” you hissed, “You’re literally making no sense-”

“Getting,” he stalked past you in the direction of the door, “Another room… _new room.”_

“You don’t get to just walk out of here without an explanation!” you reached out to take him by the upper arm only to recoil in alarm. His skin nearly burned to touch and the back of his t-shirt was drenched with sweat.

At your noise, he spun around. “What?!” he grit his teeth.

It all abruptly started clicking into place. “You’re sick with something,” you inhaled, holding up a palm, “Or infected.” A roll of his shoulders and how his gaze snapped to your mouth for a few long seconds was the only indication he heard you. “Your temperature, sounding drunk off your ass, the lack of restraint, the constant…touching,” you recounted. “What, you mean to tell me that your self-control is that naturally fucked up, Jack?” you snorted.

He slowly blinked before his eyes roved over you. “That's,” he swallowed, dropping to sit in the chair, “Pretty damn valid...point.”

“I don’t care what the SEP did to you, there’s no way in hell you ever normally run  _this_ warm. Not to mention everything else…Athena?” you requested the AI as you locked eyes with Jack, “Please engage a comprehensive biometric sweep of Commander Morrison’s vitals.”

 _“Commander Morrison?”_ the program asked, _“Do you grant permission for such engagement?”_

He looked away and muttered, “Do your thing, Athena.”

_“Running your comprehensive biometric protocols, Commander Morrison.”_

Pacing the room didn’t speed up the minutes crawling by. Worrying the edges of your nails with your teeth as Jack slid lower and lower in his seat, you sent up a silent prayer to whatever was out there that he wasn’t dying. 

 _“If possible, an upload of Commander Morrison’s blood sample would derive a complete conclusion,”_ Athena finally called out. You briefly closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh of relief; Athena would have ordered you to get him to a hospital and alerted nearby Overwatch agents to assist in his immediate evacuation if he was out of options.

Jack exhaled but drew himself to sit up straighter. He held out his upturned arm to you as you grabbed a medical kit out of the closet.

For catastrophic events, all agents out in the field were trained in enough medical care to get someone stabilized before heading to the hospital. Yet taking a blood sample would’ve been a lot easier if not for Jack’s shining gaze following your every move. You began the process by tying off his bicep to tap for a vein at his inner elbow. You nearly stabbed him with the syringe in the wrong place with how he kept staring at you. The way he’d bump his knee into your leg didn’t help. Or how he slumped forward to rub his jaw against the soft velvet of your corset. His fingers trailing against your skin or the lacy hems of your skirt and stockings. Admittedly, he’d blurt out an apology every time he slipped up. So it wasn’t quite as unnerving as it could have been.

He didn’t need a biotic field at the spot of injection since he healed so quickly. You popped his sample in between two glass plates and slid them into the side of the holotablet in the medical kit. His blood swiftly analyzed, you definitely had your answer now.

Synthesized aphrodisiacs.

Yeah, seriously, motherfucking sex stimulants.

At least they weren’t immediately lethal. Nevertheless, the solution to flushing them out of his system wasn’t exactly conventional. Per further analysis and in layman’s terms? He basically had to have it released out of him sexually. You easily recalled a similar incident years ago, with Gabriel and before Overwatch fell apart. However, you weren’t the one on Jack’s OW-7069 medical form this time. Gabriel likely was.

How the hell had Jack been infected?

 _The drinks!_  your mind furiously raced.

Neither of you ate a single thing at the party. You only had two sips of Jack’s cocktail on account of staying sober for the mission. Meanwhile, he had a few drinks to better blend in. It shouldn’t have mattered due to his enhancements from the SEP. Though that explained why it took far longer for him to show symptoms of the stimulants. Which was also probably the reason why most everyone was fucking their brains out when the two of you snuck out of the building. Basically? It hit everyone else’s non-enhanced systems first. No wonder you felt so tactile and attuned Jack’s every touch.

Except, that was the case from the beginning of the mission.

Oh,  _fuck…_

“Hey,” Jack’s voice washed over you, “You don’t look too happy.” You were concentrating so hard on his results that you didn’t hear him move. He ended up standing right in front of you with his hands pressed to the wall on either side of your head. His damp scent of soap and the heat radiating off of him made it increasingly hard to think. How he leaned down and brushed his lips against your ear to ask you something didn’t help. “I ain’t dying am I, safecracker?”

“Not uh, yet,” you exhaled.

He knit his brows together. “Not  _yet?”_

Unable to properly form words, you gave a terse nod and flipped the holotablet around so he could read it himself. He took it from you at the same time his other hand slid down to your upper arm. The sensation of the rough pad of his thumb sweeping up and down your skin was dizzying, to say the least.

“Huh,” he muttered, “How ‘bout that?”

“I’m sorry-”

“No,” Jack shook his head and set down the holotablet on the desk next to you. He gently tilted up your chin, repeating,  _“No._ You don’t have a damn thing to go apologizing for, you understand? You didn’t go doing this to me. We’ll swing by a hospital and-”

"Except for that little detail that you ingested it nearly two hours ago?” you sniffed. At least he sounded more like himself. Likely, the surge of adrenaline caused by the drugs combined with his embarrassment of being caught in a compromising position contributed to his earlier incoherence. Regardless, he was still infected. “You’re well beyond the time limit for an antidote to be administered via injection.”

He blinked in confusion. Grabbing the holotablet, he thumbed through it. “Well,  _shit.”_

“You don’t say?” you frowned.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose for a long moment before looking back to you. “I don’t expect you to go healing me up,” he narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t expect you to die on my watch,” you retorted, “The same way I didn’t allow it to happen to Gabe when he got infected all those years ago.”

“I ain’t gonna force you into-”

“No need to fall on your sword on my account,” you whispered, “We both know how blind obstinance has never won you any battles, Jack. 

That left him speechless.

You ducked under where his arm bracketed you to grab the encrypted cell phone from a drawer of the desk. He didn’t follow, despite looking forlorn to see you wandering away. “What are you…?” he took a deep breath before reaching out in an attempt to take your hand.

“Just need to call Gabe,” you stiffly waved him away while dialing.

“Hmm,” Jack murmured, even as he reached for you again, “Good idea, honey.” You weren’t sure if the endearment was really him or the effects of the drugs.

After Athena patched you through, Gabriel immediately picked up. “Hey, Gabe!” you practically yelled. You eyed Jack as he silently maneuvered himself across the room towards you.

“What’s up?" Gabe swiftly answered,  "Jackie get you back all in one piece?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “The thing is…” You rapidly relayed how the mission went. It was technically a success outside of the drugged drinks. So you now found yourself dealing with an increasingly horny co-commander who just happened to be the partner of your, well, partner.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line that caused your stomach to drop. However, Gabriel sounded nonchalant as he eventually replied, “You say he’s been drugged?”

Snatching up the medical holotablet, you sent him Jack’s prognosis. “Check your email.”

Gabriel swore after a long pause of what you assumed was him reading your message. “Well I sure in the hell don’t want him to die.”

“Neither do I!” you exclaimed

“And the only way for him to survive is to fuck it out of him?” Gabe smoothly said.

“Umm-”

“I’ll take that as a yes then, sweetie. _”_

Arching a brow, you huffed, “I don’t know whether to be offended or turned on that you don’t seem particularly concerned about this rather fucked up situation.”

Unexpectedly at your back, Jack wrapped an arm around your waist and dropped his chin to your shoulder. Thank god Athena cranked up the air-conditioning to combat his feverish side-effects since it was like being in the embrace of a space heater. A very broad and incredibly affectionate space heater. “That Gabi?” he eagerly asked, hot breath and pleased rumble caressing your ear.

“Yes, Jack,” you sucked in a breath at how he started nuzzling his nose to your hair. Yep, the stimulants were definitely starting to really get going.

“Can I talk to 'im?” he reached for the phone. If not for his distraction with you, he would’ve easily swiped it. “I wanna tell him I love him…hell, I need to tell him that a hell of a lot more often… _goddamn,_  I love that man…you too,” you felt him smile against you.

“Jack,” you swallowed, “You can’t possibly realize what you’re saying-”

“All three of us together,” his hand starting petting your stomach, “Ain’t that what we wanted, Gabe?” he loudly said towards the phone.

You froze at his words. Gabe’s lack of response didn’t help either. You finally cleared your throat and brought the phone to your ear. “You hear how he is, right?” you mumbled.

“He’s hopped up for sure,” Gabe quietly replied, “But he’s not exactly  _wrong.”_

Your brain seemed to short-circuit. It wasn’t helped by Jack’s continued nuzzling and caresses up and down your torso. As well the feel of his hard length rubbing against your ass through his sweatpants.

“What do you mean he’s not…wrong?” you measuredly replied. “Gabriel?...okay, Jack,” your voice caught in your throat at how he sucked a mark just below your ear. He then laved it with his tongue and let out a groan that sent a hot shiver through you. “You just need to give me a…a minute?”

You turned around to face Jack. Pupils blown wide, his heated gaze dropped lower and he began running his hands up and down your arms. “Smell so good,” he closed his eyes and leaned forward. Inhaling at your neck, he purred, “So soft…smell so fuckin’ pretty too. I wanna,” he sloppily pressed his mouth to the hollow of your throat. You couldn’t help throwing your head back and letting out a gasp. “I wanna kiss you  _forever.”_

“He’s getting all touchy-feely isn’t he?” Gabriel said in a shockingly calm fashion.

You clapped your hand over Jack’s on your wrist, which only made him begin brushing ticklish little circles up and down your other side. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. But it was distracting as hell from your phone conversation. “Yeah,” you insisted, “He is.”

At that, Jack mouthed a trail of kisses to your collarbone. You bit your lower lip to keep from moaning over the phone. His response to that was to start moving downwards to the tops of your breasts.

“Gabe,” you panted, causing Jack to tighten his hold on you, “I want to be honest with you about what’s happening. He’s under a stimulant-”

Jack suddenly looked up at you with a frown. “This is real,” he muttered before he softly kissed you. Your knees shook and you couldn’t hold in your breathless sigh.

“Oh really?” you unsteadily exhaled upon withdrawing. Your free hand clutched at his shirt to keep yourself upright. “This sure in the hell isn’t the Morrison I’m familiar with after all these years.”

“You’d be surprised,” Gabriel’s voice drawled from the phone still in your other hand.

Closing his eyes, Jack began running a hot hand up and down your back. You switched the phone to your other hand and pointedly said, “Again, you seem awfully okay with this, Gabe.”

You let out a hitched breath at how Jack now drew random patterns along your bare shoulder blades at the same time he began nibbling the shell of your ear. His other hand dropped to squeeze your thigh. “Yeah,” Gabriel breezily said, “From the sounds of you, I’m thinking you might want to get back to healing him up-”

“I  _do not_ want to hurt you Gabe,” you vowed, “Which is why I’m trying to explain- _Jesus Jack!”_ you groaned as he began rocking his hips into you. He was certainly not lacking in that area.

“Can't wait to go gettin' my mouth on those... _delicious_ tits of yours," he flashed you a debauched smile. You would've fainted to the floor if not for still being in his arms as he spun around so that your back was to him once again.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Gabriel's voice flew from the phone. Except he sounded  _far_ too casual...

"Been wantin' you,” Jack whispered against your ear, “With Gabe…both do...didn’t want to go scarin’ you off, lovely kitten.”

Your eyes widened and you nearly dropped the phone. “The  _fuck?!”_

He brought his hand up from your thigh to brush your cheek with the pad of his thumb. His eyes locking with yours, he licked his lower lip. “Gabe knows…he’s always known, don’tcha see?” Your mouth still hanging open, Jack dipped his head and took the opportunity steal another kiss. A rather long and hungry one at that.

Wait one fucking minute, wasn’t Jack exclusively Team Gabriel?

Christ on a cracker, again, the man could  _kiss._

“Jack?” you shakily asked as you pulled back, “Could I just, uh…” His mouth brushed and licked at your shoulder. “Could I head to the bathroom for a minute?”

Lord, his regretful expression as he unhanded you nearly did you in. He sluggishly nodded, “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Before you could fully extract yourself, he took your hand only to turn it over and lick a wet kiss onto your wrist. A shot of heat trilled through you at how his glittering gaze never dropped from yours. “Just wanna see you  _both_ happy,” he roughly declared, “Sweet Gabe…you…both, yeah?”

Wow, sex stimulants were a hell of a drug.

“There’s that then,” you cleared your throat and lightly pulled out of his grasp. Hauling ass into the bathroom without looking back, you kicked the door closed.

“Gabe!” you hissed into the phone, “What the hell is Jack rambling on about with you and me and always wanting three?”

Gabe slowly replied, “You know he’s literally on drugs, right?”

“Doesn’t mean he’s magically turned into liar. If anything, it’s broken his filter and gotten him all loose-lipped,” you asserted. “Besides, we’re talking about  _Jack_ , here. Deep down, he's the most boy scout man who ever, I don’t know, boy scouted?”

‘You also know that he actually wasn’t a boy scou-?”

“Quick changing the subject, Gabriel!”

“Oooh, I love it when you say my full name _-”_

“Gabriel Javier  _Reyes-!”_

“Keep talking to me like that, baby. You still in that hot little ensemble you left in?”

“I may not be able to shoot quite as straight as you,” you growled, “But I’m still gonna kill you when we get back to Watchpoint.”

“Didn’t take the first time, won’t take now,” he drawled. “Besides, you’d miss me. And funerals are a fucking expensive waste of time.”

Letting out a loud sigh, you closed your eyes and slid to the floor. “I just…I don’t want things to be weird and fucked up between all of us,” you whispered, “It’s been a long-ass road to get to where we are.”

“It’s going to be fine _,”_  Gabe reassured you. “I trust you and Jackie completely. Just want the both of you back in one piece, no matter what it takes.”

“Oh, let me guess,” you let out a mirthless laugh, “Mission first, right?”

“Mission’s complete and we secured the information required,” Gabe snorted.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I want two of my best agents back at Watchpoint as healthy as possible.” 

Throwing up an arm, you rolled your eyes to the ceiling.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about what it would be like?” he gave a low chuckle.

You balked, “Thought about  _what?”_

“How Jackie would be fucking you?” he purred. The images of those exact scenarios that had your mind wandering all night slammed back up to the surface. Not only with just Jack either, but with Gabe too. Your fingers were clutched so tightly around the phone that it was starting to leave indentations in your skin.

“All that disciplined muscle on top of you?” Gabe huskily echoed in your ear, “The little noises he’d pull out of you with that experienced mouth of his as he fucks you silly? I can only imagine how you went sounding when he kissed you.”

Your words caught in your throat before you wheezed out, “Gabe!”

“What?” the low hum of his voice enveloped you, “You don’t want to watch as he sucks me off, taking my cock all down his throat? All while he’s jerking himself off to the taste of me? You think you’d like watching us? I think you would. ‘Cause you’ve always been a kinky sort, haven’t you?”

Your breath hitched, your free hand travelling lower and beneath the lacy edge of your skirt as your eyes fluttered closed.

“We’d love to see you all splayed out next to us,” Gabe’s rasp filled your ear, “Your fingers rolling over your clit while you’re begging for us to come.”

Your hand slid beneath your panties, lightly swiping back and forth over your increasingly slick sex as Gabe let out a dark laugh full of sordid promise.

“Of course, we’d both fuck you. Eventually.” He had to have heard your moan as your fingers slipped against your clit. His own words nearly a growl, he plunged onward. “Put that collar and leash to good use with one of us in that tight little pussy, the other riding your ass. Watch you lose yourself between us. Make you scream for us.  _Fuck_ , I can see all three of us now.”

Damn him for knowing you all too well.

“So, you still there?” Gabe drawled, “Or are you sitting there all wet and wicked with your hand between your legs getting off to the idea of me and Jackie having our merry way with you?”

Heat clawed at you, seeming to rush over your skin before settling in your stomach. “You’re a fucking piece of work, Gabe,” you breathlessly gasped while pulling your hand away from yourself. Great, now you were all wound the fuck up.

“And so is Jack,” his words caressed your ear. “Speaking of which, you sound like you might want to get started on that. Like I said, I vastly prefer the both of returning to me in one piece.”

Admittedly, you felt as though a weight was lifted from your shoulders. Nonetheless, “We, all three of us are going to have a  _long_  discussion when we get back,” you insisted.

“Looking forward to it,” he smoothly replied. “I love you _,”_ the warm timbre of his voice soothed you, “Make sure you get home safe. Now let me talk to Jack.”

Standing, you flung open the door and marched out of the bathroom...right into Jack. Or more like right into a brick wall by how you smacked into the solid mass of him and lost your balance. He easily caught you by the forearms before you hit the floor. “I wasn’t listening in,” he sheepishly replied to your bemused expression.

“I’m sure your enhanced hearing didn’t pick up  _a thing,”_  you sarcastically replied.

"Honestly," his greedy gaze swept over you, "Tried not to."

You tossed him the phone, “Gabe wants to talk to you.”

How his eyes lit up and his wide, loopy smile brightened his expression pretty much made you forgive him. As Jack crossed the room, you tuned out his chattering conversation. Before you knew it, he was sending Gabe his love and hung up.

Back in front of you, Jack uttered, “So…”

Time was starting to run out, judging by the near scarlet flush of his cheeks and the deep “V” of sweat along the front of his t-shirt.

“Screw it,” you boldly declared. Fisting his t-shirt in your hand, you tugged him forward and pressed your lips to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I treat Athena like JARVIS from the Marvel Universe, lol. Also, Gabe legit had no idea about the drugged drinks just to make that clear. Otherwise, I had to split up the chapter since this one turned out longer than expected, so the next one will definitely bring the smut.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When "Get over here and heal up!" takes on a whole other meaning...

Jack froze, apparently taken completely off guard as your mouth captured his.

You immediately backed away at his reaction. Or rather, his lack thereof. “Oh God,” you muttered, dropping your hand from his shirt and eyes widening, “I thought that you wanted to…I’m sorr-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence due to his hands suddenly cupping your cheeks to give you a ravenous kiss. It was a messy clatter of teeth and tongue accompanied by the heated expanse of his chest crowded up against you. He moved so swiftly that your legs got tangled up in each other. The two of you stumbling backwards, you would’ve hit the floor if not for his hold on you and your hands instinctively reaching out to grip the band of his sweatpants.

Jack withdrew only to tilt your head and begin fervent kisses up and down the exposed column of your throat. Experimenting with different pressures along your skin soon had a litany of noises falling from your lips. He rapidly found your sensitive spots at the same time his hand shot downward to wildly tug at your corset.

“Don’t you want the bed?” you managed to gasp out.

 _“Later,”_ he grunted, spinning you around to reverse your positions and shoving you up against the wall. Thankfully, he'd snaked his other arm around your waist to prevent any painful impact.

It didn’t stop your startled noise. “Alrighty then…those drugs are something else-”

“Ain’t just the drugs, sweetheart,” he braced his forearm to the wall above your head and buried his face in your neck.

His other hand proceeded to yank out the top two loops of ties up the front of your corset. Not bothering with unlacing you all the way, he wrenched apart your stays just enough to pop the clasps of your bra. You slid it off and he snatched it away to throw it over his shoulder. Diving in, his hot mouth engulfed your peaked nipple. How he sucked and nipped before sliding his tongue around to sooth the sting left you throwing you head back with a hitched breath. He let out a rough exhalation as you dug your fingertips into his shoulders to hold on, his starved mouth switching to your other breast. You arched your back into him as he grazed the edge of his teeth along its underside in between his eager little nips.

“Right there, J-Jack,” you towed your fingertips through his hair as your thighs grinded up into his.

“Need you,” he tugged at your underwear, _“Now_.” However, he paused to meet your eyes, “If...if you’ll have me?”

“Yes,” you lifted your chin to kiss him again, “Absolutely.”

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he dropped a soft kiss to your cheek. He then reached over to the med kit on the chair next to the two of you and tore open a condom to roll it on. A second loud rip saw the thin lace of your panties and ruffled skirt tattered at the edges where he’d torn them from you.

You shot him an exaggerated pout. “Neither of those weren’t cheap, you know. French lace-”

“Expense ‘em on the mission report,” he lifted your knee to curl your leg around him, his firm grip anchoring you to him, “I’ll buy you more.” Your chortle was cut short into a whimper as his cockhead teased your clit.  “Hell,” he sucked at your bottom lip, “I’ll get you as many as you damn well want. Lookin’ forward to you showing them off, kitten."

You would’ve replied with a smart-ass comment, but Jack finally sliding his thick length into you sent you leaning into him with a hearty moan. He so thoroughly filled you, tight and aching, his stuttering breath causing your eyes to flutter as you wrapped an arm around him.

“You good?” he grunted, pulling back slightly only to drive deeper.

Your fingers danced at his jaw before rewarding him with a fleeting kiss. “Y-yeah,” you took a deep inhale and rolled your hips, taking in more of him, “Just…adjusting.”

“That so?” he smirked, kissing you back. Another thrust forward was hard enough to drive you up the wall and off your foot still on the floor. His hands dropping to grab your behind thankfully made it impossible for you to fall over. “I’ll go ‘n take that as compliment,” he steadily increased his drives into you.

Mouth falling open with pleasure, you started snapping your hips into his, even as you slapped his chest. “Don’t get too cocky, soldier.” 

“I’d say we’re gettin’ pretty _cocky_ , alright,” he sped up his thrusts. Your sharp exhalation filed the space between his shoulder and neck as you cradled your head to him.  Your hot, wet tightness enveloping him, he stroked a delicate spot that forced a yelp from your throat. As you gripped his forearm, his feverish pace had you grinding into his heat. “Yep,” he drawled, “Plenty cocky, sweetheart.”

“So corny,” you groaned, marking his neck with a playful bite.

“Can’t help it, hon,” he let out a pleased sigh. His bulk cornering you against the wall, he fucked you even harder, “Grew up in...fields...of the...stuff.” Your snort of laughter at his joke in the midst of his exertions lit up his face. Turning his head towards your hand at his cheek, he pressed his lips to your palm.

Bouncing up and down between the two unyielding surfaces of the wall and Jack, you vainly attempted to meet his demanding rhythm. It was impossible between that and the delightful sensations of one of his hands eagerly roaming over you. Grasping your ass, fingertips tracing your upper thighs, sweeping your lower back, fleeting touches along your breasts. He kisses mapping the underside of your jaw, his rumbling words danced against you.

Your hands now scratching up and down his back, his hips jerked into you before he suddenly tensed. A needy, spent groan into your skin and he came, you name frantically falling from his lips. Yet his free hand immediately moved between where you were joined together.

“C’mon, baby,” he breathlessly chanted against your temple, “Lemme feel you comin’ for me.”  You whine was cut off by his mouth desperately on yours as his attentive fingers swirled up and down your clit. He only slightly slowed his hips to you, moving in time with the twists of him on your sex. A focused press to your clit and your orgasm washed over you. Clenching around him with a pitched cry, a few more swipes of his fingers left your thighs shaking before he withdrew.

You heartbeat roaring in your ears, your voice seemed caught in your throat. Panting, you uncurled your leg from around him as he slid out of you. He quickly got rid of the condom and threw it in the trashcan. As he rubbed slow circles up and down your side, you wrapped your arms around his waist. You couldn’t help dropping your cheek to his shoulder and closing your eyes.

You were both silent for a long while before Jack carefully began, “That-”

“Hopefully exceeded expectations?” you blurted out.

The feel of his hoarse laugh resonated through you. “Yeah. Though I’d of liked working you up a hell of a lot more. Gotta make it up to you.”

“C’mon now,” you softly chuckled, “You make it sound like you’re giving yourself a zero star review.” Leaning back to the wall, you stared at him through half-lidded eyes. Your palm on his neck allowed you to realize how hot he still ran. Not to mention, his shirt was so damp with sweat that it clung to every sculpted plane of his torso. “Still feeling sick?”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before dropping his forehead to yours. “Less than before...I’m still, well, raring to go?” he blushed, “Sorry,” he glanced away.

“Jack,” you took him by the chin. A brush of your lips across his felt him relaxing in your embrace, “None of this is your fault, you hear me?”

Even as he nodded in agreement, he still swallowed, "Just wish we would’ve got to doing this under better circumstances.”

“I know,” you sighed, “Me too… _fuuuuck_ Talon. Now and forever.”

“Amen to that,” he lightly replied, pulling away from you. However, he trailed his hand down to in between your legs. Sliding up your stockings allowed him to slowly start to rub his fingers up and down your sex. “At the same time,” he shot you a crooked grin, “We _are_ getting to know each other better, huh?”

“Can’t…argue that,” you let out a deep exhale at the friction of his hand on you. Combined with his hips starting to rock against you, you were soon riding his hand. Your eyes slid closed as your noises rose higher and higher.

“Gabe’s always talking about how you taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he moaned before licking into your mouth for a hungry kiss. “Wanted to see if he was right. You think he’s right, safecracker?” he began working you slightly harder, “He ain't never one to lie. Least not to me.”

_“Fuck!”_

“Oh, we’ll go gettin’ to that soon,” he growled, “I swear.”

Plenty slick, he easily pushed first one and then a second thick finger into you. You jerked against him, causing him to slightly speed up in and out of you. Keening, your eyes snapped open and you pressed your hand to your mouth to muffle your cries.

“None of that now,” he hummed, pulling your hand away and trapping it against the wall next to your head, “Wanna hear you loud and clear.”

He got his wish, your cries yanked from you as he slowed only for his thumb to start slipping up and down your clit. You couldn’t help winding your free arm around his neck to pull him in for an greedy kiss. The heat pouring off of him warmed through your corset, seeming to seep into your skin.

He suddenly withdrew and pulled away. It caused you to stammer in your haze of desire, “W-what?!”

At that, he sucked his fingers into his mouth. “Shit,” he groaned, closing his eyes for a moment, “Gabe was right, you’re delicious.”

It was impossible to hold in your whine as he licked them clean. Still, your huff of frustration bubbled up from your throat. “The hell-?!” 

“You know when I kissed you for a distraction to the guards in the server room?” he started mouthing against your throat.

“How could I forget _that?_ ” you snorted.

You felt him smile against your skin before he licked a stripe across your clavicle. “Thing is,” he grunted as you heaved up into him, “Didn’t want to leave it at that.”

“Considering what we’re up to now, that’s pretty obvious,” you let out a low laugh. He rewarded you for it by sliding his calloused palms up your thighs. A light squeeze of your ass canted your hips towards him.

“If we didn’t have the mission,” he rasped into your neck before lightly biting his way up towards your ear, “I would’ve dropped to my knees and buried my face in that sweet pussy of yours right then and there.”

“God- _damn,_ Jack!” you gasped, the heat shooting straight to between your legs at the needy roughness of his voice. 

He sucked your earlobe between his teeth before he grunted, “Wanted eat you out, hear you panting and begging for me. Wanted to hear my name spilling outta you.”

“You can’t go around making…making _promises_ like that!” you barely got out the words. At the grind of his hips into you, the pressure lit up your brain. His growing arousal was pretty damn obvious too.

“Wouldn’t stop either, fuck the guards,” he declared, “Not ‘til I could fuckin' taste you coming.”

Mind spinning, you mewled, “All talk and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

“Looks like _someone_ needs a lesson in trusting me on my word.” His eyes blazed with wanton purpose as he almost painfully dug his fingertips into your skin.  Barely in control. A danger on anyone else, it only made your innards quiver with need.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, “Like I said, I ain’t gonna to stop ‘til you’re begging.”

Before you could take another breath, he easily maneuvered your stocking-clad legs over his broad shoulders. Your weight against him seemed like nothing as he pressed an arm across your stomach. It easily held you in place as his other hand ripped off your garters. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if you could expense those too.

That was all swiftly forgotten as he nuzzled his nose at your inner thigh. He then proceeded to give you a slow, lingering kiss on your pussy that had you gripping your hands in his hair. His eyes locking with yours, he slid his tongue between your folds, groaning at your taste but patiently working his way around you without touching your clit.

Your renewed string of curses had him chuckling and tightening his arm to effectively trap you against his greedy mouth. His forceful moans into you added even more sensation. The buck of your hips useless against him, he began more furious licks at your core. He only paused for a quick nip at your belly before he sunk two fingers back into you. His immediate, deliberate curls at a sensitive spot had your legs quivering and a gulping curse escaping you.

Throwing your head back, you pressed your upper back against the wall. “Please d-don't stop!” you garbled out.

“Don’t you worry,” he ordered, “I always finish what I start.” That oath sent you shivering out his name.

His fingers sped up their thrusts at the same time his lips finally captured your clit. It sent him sucking at you like a man starved. The combination had you rambling utter nonsense and your back arching up from the wall. Your thighs pressing against him, you bucked up into the promise of release from his mouth. But every time you were near, he’d slow or alternate between sucking at you, little licks and humming against you. He kept you on the edge, making you chase it as he switched speed and pressure. A strangled sob fell from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

A sudden, firm drag of the flat of his tongue across your clit when he twisted his fingers up against you finally sent you careening over the precipice. With desperate gasps that wound up into a babbling yell of his name, your hips rolled into him, your feet flexing and twitching. Riding you out as you clenched around him, he didn’t let up until you begged for mercy and slapped the wall to tap out. Only then did he give your clit a long, final suck that had you trembling before his fingers fell from you with a ragged groan. You didn't miss how he pulled his other hand from his sweats and wiped his palm along them. Apparently, he enjoyed himself as much as you did. 

The pressure of his hands on your hips was the only thing holding you up as he slowly stood. “O-okay, _fine,”_ you shakily said. Bracing your hands on his chest and struggling to catch your breath, you were barely able to get out, “You’re really fucking serious about keeping your promises.”

The light dusting of pink across his cheeks would’ve made him look boyish, if not for your slickness shining across his mouth. His warm laugh skittered along your skin as he cupped your face and sighed, “You’re so lovely.” Pulling you into his ravenous kiss, the taste of yourself left you moaning. Without breaking it, he swept you up into his arms, carried you across the room in a few long strides and tossed you onto the bed.

You couldn’t hold in a giggle at how you bounced before he hauled himself over you in a matter of seconds. Mouth on yours, his slid his hands up and down your sides over the soft velvet of your corset. You ran your own down his back and along his ass. His surprised expression as you gave him a frisky pinch caused you to smile against him.

You withdrew to lean back on your elbows. Rising to his knees and looming over you, he yanked off his t-shirt over his head. The sight of the firm lines of definition of his torso met you. You couldn’t miss the various scars crisscrossing the pale expanse of his skin. Some faded, the majority of them were newer. A stark reminder of his active duties. Reaching out, you pressed a hand to the wall of hard muscle that formed his abs.

“No wonder why they’re always saying age before beauty,” you hummed.

He let out a brisk laugh. “Whoever says that is a damned liar,” he leaned down to kiss you, “‘Cause they obviously haven’t had the privilege of laying eyes on you.”

"Like I said before, I'm not a kid anymore either," you arched a knowing brow. “Flattery will get you far with most people-“

“Except I’m not some idiot young punk trying to get into your pants for a notch on my bedpost. And you ain’t never been ‘most people.’” A lick of heat flared through you at his words. It only grew as he murmured against your ear, “Want to get on your hands and knees for me, kitten?”

“So demanding,” you teased.

“I could be a coward and blame it all the drugs coursing through me,” he declared, “Fact is, can’t wait have you again.” Jesus _fuck_ , his voice was filled with filthy promise as he slid his hand down your thigh.

“You might want to get on that, then,” you shifted forward in a vain effort to get his fingers lower on you.

He chuckled and instead began drawing fleeting patterns up and down your skin. “So obliging,” he smiled against your neck. A smack of your ass sent you reeling and heat shooting up your spine. “Like I said,” he moved to help you maneuver around, “Hands and knees, honey.”

“Apparently, it’s going to take a few more rounds to make sure you’re all healed up,” you turned and lifted yourself to your hands and knees.

“Such a _shame,”_ he smirked, shucking off his sweatpants. Crawling up the bed, he draped himself over your back. He easily kept his superior weight balanced so he didn’t crush you. 

“When I saw you at Gabe’s,” he gently rolled his mouth over the back of your neck while his fingers carefully undid the silk ties along the back of your corset, “I wanted to unwrap you…just like this.” Rubbing his cheek along your shoulder blade, his stubble left pleasant tingles. “Like a pretty little present,” he began drawing apart the stays, "All done up fancy, just waiting to be opened." 

Every few tugs of your corset, he dragged his hot tongue down your back as his movements revealed more and more of your skin. Interspersed with fleeting kisses, he made it to the base of your spine. A nip on your ass drew out your moan as he finally unwound the corset from around you and tossed it to the floor.

Moving down the bed let him roll your fishnets down your thighs. As with your back, he dropped kisses of varying pressure down the backs of your thighs to your knees as he undressed you. You trembled, arching your back for more, your pussy aching for him. Mouth, hands, anything from him to settle you. But he only gradually moved downwards to pull your stockings off your feet. Throwing them aside, he smoothly rolled you to your back.

Dropping more kisses to you had you wrapping your arms around his neck. One of his hands stroked your breast as his other one fell to your bottom with a light slap. You groaned into his mouth and jerked your hips up into him.

He ran a finger across your cheek before he sighed, “I wouldn’t mind you having you all under me like this more often.”

“Hmm,” you non-committedly replied.  

“You’re quiet,” he tilted his head at you, “Everything okay?”

“Yep,” you grinned. Running your palm up and down his bicep and forearm, you marveled at the hard muscle moving under his hot skin. “Just wondering how in the hell you’re in better shape than I am.”

His deep chuckle washed over you as he dropped a quick bite to your neck. “Probably all the damn chemicals and whatnot the SEP pumped into me.”

You closed your eyes and tilted your head to grant him more access. He rewarded you with a soothing lick across your pulse point that had you digging your fingers into his arm. “The miracles of science.”

“Too bad even more chemicals have got me all hopped up right now,” he muttered.

“There are worse ways to go,” you shrugged, “At least you’re not going to die now.”

“Point taken.” Propping himself on one elbow above you, his gaze darted downwards. “Hey?”

“What?” you nudged your hip into him. You didn’t miss how he was getting hard again. Though this time, it wasn’t quite as fast as the last couple of times.

“Wondering if you'd, uh,” his voice rumbled over you, “Well, if you’d allow me to…”

The catch in his words caused you to turn your head to take him in. He licked at the corner of his mouth, beads of sweat beginning to break out along his brow. He was no longer burning up to the touch, so it couldn’t have been that. You raised your head to peck your lips to his jaw, “What would you like, Jack?”

He shook his head in disagreement. “This is pretty fucked-up of me-”

“Not really,” you quickly interrupted, pressing your palm to his stubbled cheek.

Leaning into your touch, he closed his eyes. “You don’t even know what I’m about to ask.”

“I trust you,” you adamantly replied.

Eyes snapping open, he narrowed his hot, glittering gaze for a long moment. You refused to look away before he curled his hand to your arm to pull you closer. Giving you a thorough kiss, he rested over you on his forearms before his mouth started traveling downwards.

“Don’t let all of my soldiering fool you, safecracker,” his lips skimmed your chin. Wandering down along your neck and shoulders, he came to a stop at your breasts. “I'm a filthy old bastard when I wanna be.”

“We’re both pretty damn naked, I'm just saying,” you waved around. “And you’re on drugs,” you chuckled, "This is _literally_ a drug-fueled sex session. Not exactly innocent play going on around here, Jack." 

“Ha- _ha,”_ he sarcastically replied. Interlacing his fingers with yours, he brought your hand upwards. “By the way,” he used his other hand to slide a finger under your collar, “You’re not entirely naked considering you’re still wearing this little thing. Fact is,” he cleared his throat, “That’s what I was gonna, uh, ask.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. That was until he leaned down and rasped, “I’m asking if you could...keep it on? With the, well, the leash too?”

All of the explicit imaginations of him having his absolute, dominatiing way with you came flooding back. Your stomach clenched in anticipation. Goosebumps broke out all along your skin. At the heat building between your thighs, you vainly tried to swallow back a gasp.

He must have heard you and assumed something else entirely. “Sorry _,”_ he stiffened, “That’s way the hell outta line,” he flushed nearly scarlet, “For me...to...demand that of you-”

You pulled him to you in a frantic kiss. Your legs intertwined with his, feeling his growing arousal against you. You almost laughed at how he gaped at you as you withdrew.

“Yes,” you plainly said.

His mouth hung open, so it took a few moments for him to reply. “You…you really don’t mind if I-?”

“Be rough with me, Jack?” In any other situation, you would’ve taken the opportunity to capture his stunned look with your cell camera for posterity. Instead, you whispered into his ear, “Have me in all ways you imagined?” Reaching over to the intable next to the bed, you took the leash and carefully placed it in his hand. Closing his fingers over it, you rolled your hips into him. He snapped his eyes shut with a hiss as his cock twitched against you. “I can take it, Jack…hell, I _want_ it.”

He rolled the leash in his palm and took a few halting breaths before he opened his eyes. His pupils were blown, lips pursed. You nodded in acquiescence and lifted your chin. Stilling his shaking fingers, he deftly clipped it to the ring of your collar.

“You mind,” he swallowed, “Calling me ‘sir?’”

You lifted a brow and ran your tongue across you lower teeth. “So you have a thing for command-?”

“Nevermind,” he flinched, dropping the leash like it burned to the touch, “Forget it-”

“I think it’s incredibly hot,” you gently held his chin. Sweeping your lips across his, you added, _“Sir.”_

Jack stilled. But only for a moment before he wrapped the leash around his knuckles. Nonetheless, he still left out a solid amount of give. “Am I being too rough?”

Surging forward, you kissed him hard. “More,” you swore before sucking his bottom lip into your mouth.

“More _what_ , kitten?” he timidly asked, even as he gave a light pull of the leash while his other hand wandered down to your breast.

“More, sir,” you raggedly breathed.

His azure eyes lit up. “Hmm,” he dipped his head to nuzzle his nose aganst your cheek. Licking his way upwards before capturing the shell of your ear between his teeth, how he thumbed your nipple had you rubbing your knee to him. Your sharp moan rang out as you wrapped your legs around one of his. His mouth sucked a hard kiss to your pulsepoint that would definitely leave a mark before he gave the leash another tug.

“You gonna be good for me?” he gruffly ordered, like a surge of confidence had hit him.

“Yes, sir,” you raised a brow. At the same time, you slid a hand between the two of you. Taking his heavy cock in your palm, your swept your finger over his leaking tip.

His face contorted with pleasure as he his eyes slid shut. You deliberately started working your hand up and down his girth until your quick tugs had him huffing out, “Oh, _sweetheart-”_

“Yes?” you smirked.

“That’s,” his breath hitched as you slightly sped up, “That’s ‘yes _sir.’”_ You grinned and twisted your hand around him while steadily thumbing the tip of his cockhead. He shuddered before his eyes snapped open. “Not gonna last long with your being this troublesome,” he drew your hand upward and pinned it to the bed, “So none of that now.”

“But I didn’t do anything, sir," you pouted.

He took the bait, desperately capturing your mouth with his. Sliding his tongue against yours, he seemed to kiss the breath out of you. “Next time?” he rumbled, withdrawing only to bite a kiss to the underside of your jaw, “You’re getting tied to the bed and I’m gonna eat out that pussy ‘til you’re fuckin’ falling apart,” he roughly promised. “Then I'm gonna fuck you however I damn well please. _Repeatedly._ See how you go liking that.”

“Really now?” you slowly blinked as he he licked a stipe down you’re neck, “Think you have the stamina for that, sir?” you tilted up your chin in defiance.

He stole a kiss from you, “I see you’re full of jokes.” Moving upward to roll his hips against yours, his cock glided against your sex. You gasped and tried to bow up off the bed. But his superior weight on you wouldn’t allow it. “Well, maybe me and Gabe wil have a go at you. Work you up but never let you come, huh? Wonder how long you could hold out between us?” he casually wondered aloud.

“Long enough,” you exhaled, closing your eyes and wrapping your legs around one of his. “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it, sir.”

“Seeing how wet you are now?” his fingers trailed down your stomach to your center. Swirling around, he let out a low laugh at the quiver of your hips in your vain efforts for more contact with him. “I’m thinking not long.”

“You have to…got to...” you groaned, “C'mon now, Jack. _”_ His playful tug of the leash and a cluck of his tongue sent you quickly adding, “ _Sir!”_

“I rest my case, honey.”

Moving to sit on his knees over you, he pushed open your legs and and braced your thighs around his waist so that his cock rested at your opening. Slick cockhead teasing your folds, his thumb continued swiping along your clit. You whimpered, worrying your lower lip against your teeth as you reached down to clutch at his wrist.

His dirty chuckle filling the air, he pulled at your leash and growled, “Love seeing you like this, all wet for me.” Shivering at his fingers lightly working you, he continued “You like it when I got you all open for me, don't you, kitten?”

“Oh God,” you whined, frantically nodding in agreement and scratching your fingertips down his abs. “I need…need you to fuck me-”

“Ask,” he leaned down to drag the blunt edge of his teeth along your earlobe, _“Nicely.”_

“Please, Jack,” you wound your arms around his neck to pull him into your embrace, “Please fuck me, sir!”

“That’s my girl,” he moaned into his kiss to you.

Slipping back to sit on his knees, he finally sunk his cock into you, eyes locked with yours are you took all of him in with a press of your thighs. Chest rising and falling with your frenzied breaths, you intertwined his fingers with yours. He gave your hand an affectionate squeeze.

“So damned beautiful,” he reverently murmured, rolling into you. “So trusting,” he rubbed the back of his knuckles down your cheek. Eyes shining, he leaned over to flutter kisses along your forehead, across your eyelids, to the tip of your nose. “I’d do anything,” his mouth brushed yours, “ _Anything_ for you.”

“Jack,” you cupped his face and brushed your thumb down his lips, “The drugs…you’re just…babbling…”

“Don’t make it any less true,” he licked your thumb before giving it a nip. A firm tug of the leash had him meeting your mouth again. The push of his hips left you gasping. Another move fluidly moved into another, his thick cock gliding against a sweet spot that had you clenching around him.

“Ah, fuck _,”_ you moaned, heaving up off the bed and grasping at his forearms, "Jack...please, sir... _fuck!"_

“Think that’s what we’re goin’ for, last I checked,” he nibbled at your neck just beneath the collar.

“Now who's full of jokes," you breathlessly snickered, "Sir?"

“Mmm-hmm,” he replied, nuzzling the valley between your breasts. He remained still for a moment, on the brink of control and letting you come down for a bit.

Soon, he moved to his knees again, thrusting up into you and steadily increasing his pace. One of his hands fell to your breasts while his other remained wrapped around the leash. Your breath was shallow in your throat as he twitched his hips to drive deeper. Rocking into him in turn, you grinded down against him with gasping, pleasured moans. His grunts swirling around you, the two of were locked together in the carnal climb towards release.

At the feel of you starting to tremble around him, his hand moved take one of yours and pin it to the bed next to you once again. “Just a ‘lil more, sweetheart,” he towed at your leash to pull you in for a hungry kiss. “Stay with me… _stay with me_ ," he moaned in between his lips on you, "Know you...you got it in you."

You couldn’t form coherent words, whimpering at how he purposely slowed. Sheathing himself in you with each deliberate, hard stroke, he bucked up into you in his merciless, steady rhythm. Hips quivering, you dragged your nails down his back. He hummed in agreement, fingers swirling around your clit as you fought to remember how to breath. Heat licking up your skin and the bed thumping against the wall, your eyes fluttered shut.

“So fuckin’ lovely,” Jack rasped, licking and mouthing at your clavicle, “Wanna…wanna come for me now, kitten?”

His fingers insistent on your clit, you let out a choked yelp of his name. Your sensitive walls tightened around him as you bowed upwards and he pulled your pitched cries of release from you. Gamely fucking you through it, his rumbling words of encouragement fell from his mouth in between his fervent kisses.

“Just like that, hon...fuckin’ hell,"  he swore, "Just...like… _oh_...J-Jesus _Christ…”_

Dropping the leash and gripping your hip to his, he pounded into you for a few more strokes before he tensed, shivered and then came with a loud, husky shout of your name.

Jack collapsed on top of you, skin sweaty and body heat feeling normal once again. Well, normal for him since he always ran a few degrees hotter due to his enhancements. It was fine with you for the time being, considering the air-conditioning was still cranked up to combat his earlier feverish heat. The comforting feel of him resting on top of you didn't feel odd or out of place. Especially as he shifted and braced himself over you.

He fingered your collar before murmuring, “You wanna let me take this off?” You tiredly nodded, rolling over so that he could do so. He had it off and tossed to the floor in a few seconds before he moved back over you. “How are you, honey?” he traced your face before giving you a long kiss.

You arched up to meet his mouth. However as you withdrew, you swallowed and winced at the aches swimming up and down your body. “Sore…sore as fuck,” you shakily replied, moving to lie on your side and stretch out as you closed your eyes.

“Gimme a minute,” Jack slid off the bed.

You heard something clink on the in-table next to the bed before your side of the room was suddenly enveloped by the warm, whirring glow of a yellow biotic field. They must have had one as part of the supplies stashed around the room. The ache between your legs, bruising and bite marks all along you immediately began fading.

“Better?” Jack dropped back into bed behind you.

“Um-hmm,” you sleepily slurred.

Running a careful hand up and down your side, his kiss grazed your upper arm.  "You sure?" he asked with concern, “Looks like I wore you out."

“Not all of us are enhanced like you,” you rolled over your back to give his stubbled cheek a pat.

“That’s valid,” Jack ran the pad of his thumb along your jaw. He bent down to give you a lingering kiss. “Why the hell didn’t me and Gabe both tell you we wanted you sooner?” he sighed.

You let out a tired chuckle. “Because you’re a couple of stubborn, old-ass, emotionally constipated soldiers who’d rather fight and fuck instead of, I don't know, having a conversation like sane, decently adjusted people do?”

You yelped and then giggled at Jack’s light smack to your behind. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy punishing you on the regular, safecracker,” he suggestively waggled his brows.

“Didn’t take you to be so commanding,” you tilted your head at him before  draping your arms around him.

“Didn’t think you’d look so damn good with a leash and collar,” he moved back up the bed to spoon your back to his chest. "'Sides, I certainly know how to take orders pretty damn well too. Just, uh, ask Gabe.”

Your exhausted laugh met him, “You’re a filthy man, Commander Morrison-”

 _“Co-Commander,”_ he sleepily corrected you, “Like it shoulda always been,” he muttered. You found yourself nodding in agreement. “Besides,” he continued more loudly, “It takes one to know one, sweetheart.” Your warmed at how easily the affectionate name now rolled off his tongue. “Now,” he held you to him in his embrace, “Get some sleep. We’ve got an early extraction tomorrow morning.”

Taking Jack’s advice, you soon found yourself drifting off the steady sound of the biotic field and his breathing behind you as his hands languidly massaged your skin in gentle sweeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, enjoy this naughtiness while you can, as the next few chapters will be angsty as hell. Who said polyamory negotiations are easy?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Jesse, you sweet, summer child...

You weren’t exactly surprised to wake up to an empty bed as you sleepily rolled over. However, Jack was seated in a chair next to you and thumbing through the holopad. Dressed in civilian clothes provided by the safe room, he shot you a brief grin. Of course he’d already be up, showered and ready to go.

“Hey,” he murmured. His gaze darted up and down the blanket wrapped around your naked form. “Figured you could you could use some coffee before we head out,” he passed you a much appreciated, steaming mug. It wasn’t hard to miss his fingers lingering against yours. He also seemed to know how you took your coffee with two sugars and a bit too much creamer.

He didn’t appear in a rush, so you savored it. Glancing to the window saw the sun barely cresting the horizon. “How long until extraction?”

He checked his watch. “Just under an hour.”

“Plenty of time for me get it together,” you yawned and stretched.

“Sure thing,” he nodded and stood. Wandering over to the lounge area outside the bedroom, he called out over his shoulder, “So, uh...I’ll leave you to it.”

“Okay…” you trailed off.

You admittedly hadn’t been with anyone since being reunited with Gabriel and rejoining Overwatch. So this whole morning after awkwardness was new again. Frowning, you made your way to your feet with the blanket still wrapped around you. Tossing a fresh set of clothes onto the bed and gathering up your toiletries, you were ready for a long, hot shower.

Turning around to make sure you collected everything you needed, you let out a startled wheeze at Jack standing only few feet from you. His silent movements shouldn’t have been a surprise anymore. But still...

“What’s up?” your forced yourself to brightly say.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he held up his hands in surrender, “Just forgot to do something.”

You waved around the room, “Yeah, sure, grab whatever you need-”

Closing the space between you, his fingers tilted your chin upwards and his mouth captured yours. The kiss was soft and surprisingly sweet. Sending a warm shiver through you, you rocked to your toes as he deepened it.

“Good morning,” the warm timbre of his voice caressed you as you withdrew.

“That’s a way to wake up,” you let out a sigh of relief.

His deep chuckle skittered along your skin as he reached down take your hands. His thumbs began running slow, lazy circles around your palms. “Didn’t want you feeling all weird or anything after, uh, we just…” he jerked his head towards the rumpled sheets of the bed.

“This certainly helps,” you truthfully replied, “Though I think I’ll be a lot less jittery once we debrief with Gabe.”

“Understandable,” he gave your hands a quick squeeze before pulling away. “Now go get yourself cleaned up so we can head back.”

“Well, I was until  _someone_  decided to ambush me.”

He pressed his lips to your temple, “Just get a move-on, safecracker.”

“Of course,” you drawled, arching a knowing brow. “Anything else I can do for you?  _Sir?”_ you licked your bottom lip.

How he suddenly blushed nearly scarlet while stammering out a flustered “No!” caused you to let out a laugh as you headed to the bathroom to shower and get ready.

* * *

The extraction out of Hong Kong and the stealth helicopter ride back to Watchpoint went smoothly. You admittedly slept most of the way there. But your nerves began tingling as soon as you landed on the helipad back on Gibraltar.

Seeing Gabe waiting for the both of you was expected. It was a nice carry-over from the old days, when all desk agents involved in their specific missions always met the retuning field agents on the roof. Except now, you had to actually face him in person versus a rambling phone conversation with him purposely winding you up.

You were so distracted with trying to keep it together that both Gabe and Jack had to tell you a couple of times to get out of the chopper. “Yeah…sorry,” you shook your head in apology. You lugged your bag over your shoulder before stepping down in between them.

Gabriel wore his trademark black beanie. While the sides were still low, he kept the hair on top longer now. The dark length lightly salted with grey easily escaped the front of his knit cap. He also wore a dark hoodie but no longer bothered with kevlar armor. His blue fatigue pants matched his navy overcoat. Pinned to its right lapel was the gold medal of his Commander rank. Otherwise, he almost looked frozen in time. Well, save the fiery, scarlet hue of his eyes and the effervescent wisps grey smoke coiling around him. Neither of which detracted in the slightest from his handsome features as he gave you a brief grin of relief.

He appeared the same age as that fateful last day at Swiss Headquarters. A distant part of you wondered if he and Jack realized what his possible lack of aging would mean for them. Would he continue to live forever while all those around him aged and died? Or would there come some terrible moment where the years would catch up with him all at once, leaving him decrepit and near the death he so narrowly escaped?

“You’re thinking  _way_ too hard about this, darling _,”_ Gabriel interrupted your musings as all three of you crossed the roof. With the incoming storm, the sky was overcast and a light drizzle of rain was just starting to fall.

“I need to debrief,” you swallowed.

“Didn’t you already do that with Jackie?”

It wasn’t said in a cruel or sarcastic way. There was no hint of seething anger in his voice. Nor did he shoot you a look that could kill. He walked with a casual gait, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat and shoulders loose.

Yet your head still whipped up to take in what looked like his genuinely amused expression. Regardless, the niggling at the back of your mind couldn’t be silenced. Your stomach churned as you flexed your fingers. You vainly tried to ignore the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears. You couldn’t tell if it was the damp air or that you were sweating. Your eyes darting to Jack walking on your other side, he didn't seem to bear a hint of unease. Yet that was to be expected considering his years of experience operating under high pressure situations in front of the press and constant scrutiny. 

“Hmph,” you grunted in reply to Gabriel. Speeding up your steps, you ducked into the doorway inside.

Gabe easily caught up with you as all three of you made your way through the brightly lit, shiny, tiled white hallways of Watchpoint. His hand at your hip brought you to a halt.

“First things first,” he clapped both you and Jack on the back, “You’re reporting to medical."

“Athena scanned me up this morning and-”

“No one’s ever died of extra precautions, Jackie,” Gabe snorted, “Angela has been informed of your diagnosis and is expecting you.”

Jack opened his mouth in rebuke only for Gabe to fist a hand in his shirt and tug him forward for a hungry kiss. Jack immediately relaxed into it, his arm winding around Gabe’s side. A moan slipping from his mouth as Gabe withdrew, his soft blue eyes lit up with pleasure.

“No matter you little bout of fun,” Gabe patted Jack’s cheek, “I need official assurance that all traces of that poisonous shit are gone. From the both of you,” he shifted his attention to you. Your doubtful expression must have been more obvious than intended, as Gabe sent you a knowing look. “You were in close contact with him.”

 _So that’s what we’re calling it now?_  you thought to yourself. “Except it’s no longer active,” you crossed your arms.

“I was thoroughly unaware that ‘medical doctor’ fell under your job description,  _safecracker,_ ” Gabe drawled.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, “Fine then.”

“Oh, I know it is,” Gabe brushed a hand up and down the small of your back, “Because even if it wasn’t, I was going to _order_ you to medical any damn way,” he smirked. He certainly had the right to do so considering he ran the op as the superior officer. “Otherwise,” he interrupted your thoughts, “When you’re finished, get some rest. We'll go over the details and close out the op in a couple of days.”

“And analysis of the server?” you replied.

“I don’t have any issue with you beginning with the memory partitions that have been virus checked,” Gabe nodded.

“Works for me.”

Ducking his head to give you a long kiss, he murmured against your mouth, “Welcome home, babe _.”_

“Can’t argue that,” you tugged his coat lapel and stroked his jaw. Gabe grinned and closed his eyes for moment to lean into your touch before he sent the both of you off.

Upon arriving, Angela immediately corralled Jack into a private room while a couple of other doctors ran various tests on you. Taking blood and other samples, they put you through all sorts of scans. The ones with immediate results came back negative and with no sign of contamination. Since everything appeared normal for now, they eventually sent you home. However, you were under strict orders to remain in your quarters and avoid contact with anyone not already exposed since it would take two more days to get the last of your test results.

Under normal circumstance, you would’ve curled up with Gabe post-op. Depending on the timing, it would either be in his or your quarters. The location didn’t matter much since you lived next door to each other with Jack’s quarters on Gabe’s other side. But between the new boundaries you’d crossed with Jack and Gabriel explicitly having no issue with it? Well, you needed some alone time to ruminate on things.

Despite that Gabe’s system couldn’t be affected by toxins anymore and Jack was already exposed, you kept yourself locked away in your quarters. Both men hemmed and hawed over it when you let them know via (separate) vid chat. At the same time, they left you to your own devices. You could appreciate the respect for your space. Besides, you’d all be in a room together for debrief after your follow-up appointment.

* * *

Over the next 48 hours, you busied yourself with reviewing the op. Especially unearthing the identity of the Scandinavian you’d tazed in the server room. Setting up your parameters to search and hack into various databases, you also engaged Athena to collate the information. The AI was far superior for data mining than anything you could put together for swift results.

Two days later and roughly an hour before your appointment, you found what you were looking for.

Mikkel Gustav Thygesen was born and raised in Odense, Denmark. Interestingly enough, the same city where Hans Christian Andersen was born. But Thygesen was anything but sweet. The son of two engineers, he was a certifiable genius when it came to omnic code and software manipulation. Unfortunately, what he contained in brains he lacked in self-control.

Most normal people would be set for life upon inheriting a few million dollars as an only child after their parents died in a boating accident. But not Mikkel. Designer clothing, gifts to his paramours, gambling, fast cars, luxury travel and partying it up at some of the world’s most exclusive clubs were a way of life. Add in some poor investments and he was broke in the matter of five years. Which was why he came knocking at Sombra’s door to offer his skills in corporate espionage.

Four years ago and like a phoenix from the ashes, Sombra rose from the destruction of Los Muertos as orchestrated by Talon. Preferring to find security in numbers, she’d gathered a complex network of hackers spanning the globe.  Her modus operendi remained the same; stealing compromising information to either blackmail, sell or leak to the public if the other two didn’t pan out first. She and her growing collective held no loyalty to anyone but themselves. It all worked out just fine for her while being a nightmare for any person or entity with some semblance of power in the public eye. Considering the chaotic state of the world, various wars and skirmishes across the globe and wealth in the hands of a few at the top, it was no wonder many saw the Sombra Collective as their last hope against injustice.

She admittedly hadn’t crossed the newly reformed Overwatch. Yet it was only a matter of time as far as you were concerned.

No doubt Thygesen made a healthy living gathering data for her. That certainly explained why he was in the server room at the same time you were. Except, he wasn’t stealing information from Talon but rather,  _guarding_ it.

Interesting.

Athena summoning you to medical, you set your holoscreens to sleep and headed to the elevators at the end of the hall. There’d be plenty of time to track Thygesen later.

* * *

“Well, would you lookee here?” a familiar voice drawled as you climbed onto a free bed in the blood ward. One more clean sample of blood from you would put you in the clear and you’d be free to go. “It’s my favorite safecracker. And how are you doin’ on this fine day, darlin’?”

“I’m the  _only_  safecracker left around here, Jesse,” you hummed.

“That don’t make it any less nice to lay eyes on ya, now do it?” You couldn’t help your smile as he completely yanked back the partition curtain to your left and sent you a two-fingered salute from his brow.

He sat laid out on the bed and stripped down to his snug, white, unbuttoned Henley undershirt and boxers. An IV was in his right arm. He also wore a glossy, white medical monitoring cuff around his right wrist to read his vitals. His bed was surrounded by an array of brightly colored holographic images. Readings flashing in real time, they'd every so often swirl into new ones. Without his hat, his dark, messy locks fell over his forehead. The cigar he currently chewed on wasn’t lit despite the how he flipped open and closed his engraved, gold lighter with his metal hand.

Taking in the holograms and seeing he didn’t appear physically sick, you pointed at the flickering images. “Getting the usual pre-op full physical?”

“Why, yes indeed, ma’am,” Jesse grinned. “After this, it’s upstairs to Winston.” A flex of his metal fingers had the lighter clacking between the dexterous digits before he went back to opening and closing it. “Gotta make sure my arm calibrations are all up to snuff before I go headin’ out tomorrow mornin.’”

“How long for?” you opened and closed your palm to speed along the extraction of your blood through your IV.

“Coupla weeks,” he shrugged. Hesitating for a few seconds, his expression swiftly shifted back to lackadaisical as he chuckled, “Nothin’ dangerous.”

“Boring's better than deadly,” you nodded.

“You don’t say?” he smirked, “That how your last op went? ‘Cause I thought for sure it’d be an easy in 'n out,” he winked, “If ya catch my drift.”

You refused to let the sudden flash of heat swirling through you at his insinuation affect you. Then again, how could he possibly know about the details of your op? You hadn’t technically closed it out and uploaded it to archive with the proper redactions to protect against prying eyes. In fact, you had a meeting with Gabe and Jack right after this to finalize the reports. As well as discuss the status of your…relationship to them both.

Well  _that_  was going to be a fun conversation.

“From what do I recall, that mission had all sorts of seedy ‘lil things goin’ on with it,” Jesse’s slick twang interrupted your thoughts, “Considerin’ that dirty-ass shindig they had goin’ on.”

You balked, “How exactly are you privy to any of that?”

“Well, it was all mine 'til Gabe went askin’ for it personally,” Jesse sagely nodded.

“That so?” you arched a brow.

“Absolutely, hon. It was gonna to be a slam dunk for me 'n Hanzo. Hell, I was lookin’ forward to a little fun with the hubbie on the job,” he dreamily replied.

“Not to rain on your parade, Jess,” you brushed off your shoulder in a show of confidence, “But it was a better fit for me. Talon being on a private network not connected to an outside system meant I had to be there in person to directly crack it.”

“Hmm,” Jesse scratched his bearded chin. “Except when me 'n Hanzo went over the briefin’ with Ana, the only reason we needed to be up in there was to go physically poppin’ them memory chips up into their server.”

Wait…what? That sure in the hell didn’t make sense with your briefing with Gabe and Jack.

Your astounded expression must have been obvious as Jesse tutted, “Don’t go gettin’ jealous, buttercup. You still woulda been part of the op; we’d of had you waitin’ on standby to go breakin’ into the signal, and I assume you’d use those fancy enhancements of yours to swipe the info,” he carelessly waved, “Easy-peasy from there.”

Gritting your teeth, you swallowed down your rising irritation. It wasn’t Jesse’s fault the wool had been pulled over your eyes. Schooling your face to neutral, you tilted your head and calmly said, “Well, I can’t argue that."

“That’s what I went tellin’ Gabe.” The blood seemed to rush to your head as Jesse continued, “He still went 'n claimed the op for himself. Seein’ as I didn’t mind him owing me a favor down the line, told him he was welcome to it. No skin off my back. Though I _was_ lookin’ forward to bein’ a good ‘lil pet at that fancy-ass party,” he wolfishly grinned.

One of he holograms around you beeped in warning. Your eyes darted to the bouncing line indicating your heartbeat as it spiked across the display with increasing speed. Balling a hand into a fist, you snapped your eyes shut. Your long series of deep inhales through your nose didn't seem to do jack shit for your rising temper.

“I take it,” your voice was barely above a hiss, “You sent over the op file to Gabe with all of your planning notes?”

Leaning back to prop himself on the metal railing along the head of the bed, Jesse shrugged. “Naw. He had me pop it over to Jack. Something 'bout keepin’ the old man in the loop.”

You could see Jesse’s mouth moving, but it was impossible process his words. You took in his excited gesturing as he went into more detail about his initial plans. Every so often, he’d run a hand through his shaggy hair or unwrap a new cigar to chew on. Yet you could do nothing but sit in stiff, stunned silence at his revelation about Gabe and Jack taking the op.

Those fuckers knew  _exactly_  what they were getting you into. Sure, they didn’t directly lie to you. And the drugged drinks weren’t explicitly their fault, you would never blame them for that. But they omitted the rather obvious fact that you didn’t need to be there in the first damn place. To them, you were a mere mission to be completed. Jack’s ramblings while under the influence pretty much confirmed it now. As did Gabe’s nonchalance about everything.

You jerked away from Jesse’s hand falling to your forearm. ”You okay, darlin’?” he murmured. Eyes widening, he slowly continued, “You look like you’ve up 'n seen a ghost. Thing is, instead of bein’ all scared and shit, you look mightily  _pissed_.”

“Oh, I’m pissed alright,” you grit your teeth.

“Hopefully I didn’t do nothing to go offendin’ ya?”

Your spastic nod of disagreement had him curling his mouth with confusion. “No,” you snapped. “No,” you repeated, voice dropping and giving his hand on you a distracted pat. The cool metal of his fingers tightened for a quick moment before he withdrew. “Sorry Jessie...I…I have to go. Nothing you did at all…don’t worry yourself over anything."

His expression told you that he didn’t believe you for one second. Dark eyes flit over you as you ripped off the monitoring cuff from your wrist. The holograms surrounding you with your readings sputtered off at the same time screeching beeps of the machine filled your ears. One of the doctors came running, assuming your vitals were failing. You waved her off while snippily announcing you felt fine and they could just message you your results.

You ignored Jesse’s low whistle and quiet chuckle as you sidestepped the doctor and marched to the exit. You had more important things to do. Like quite possibly figuring out an effective way to kill two thick-headed, fuckface super-soldiers.

* * *

The ding of your arrival on Gabriel’s office floor barely registered as you stomped out of the elevator. His work space was on one of the highest floors and located right down the hall from Ana’s. As she was his superior, she took the corner office while he and Jack took separate offices in the middle of the floor.

It still afforded him a gorgeous view overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The soothing sounds of the waves hitting the rock of Gibraltar blended with the patter of rain against the tinted, floor to ceiling windows. Via voice or touch command, they could be turned opaque for security purposes. They also served as holoscreen projectors. His office contained the standard dark wood furnishings of a desk and chairs. There wasn’t much personal décor, save various potted plants arranged on shelves next to the windows.

It seemed you were the last person to arrive. You ignored Jack’s greeting and how he opened the door for you. As you stiffly dropped into your seat in front of Gabe’s desk, Jack did the same to your right in a second chair, though far more loose-limbed and casual. You told yourself that tersely answering Gabe’s questions about the op was the best way to avoid reaching across the desk or lashing out to your side to slap the both of them. Keeping your responses to only a handful of brusque words wasn’t particularly difficult. Not with the way your heartbeat thrummed in your ears and your sight seemed to collapse in on itself down to tunnel vision.

You couldn’t stop darting your eyes back and forth between the two dolts. Time seemed to slow to a standstill. No matter that the digital clock embedded in the glass window behind Gabe signaled it’d only been an hour since you began the briefing. You ignored how Jack kept stealing increasingly bewildered glances at you. As well as Gabriel’s long pauses to give you a once-over.

“Any other questions or concerns?” Gabe repeated for a third time. Snapping out of your rage trance saw him tilting his head to the side and drumming his fingers on the desk. He frowned at you for a brief moment at the same time Jack touched his palm to your upper arm.

Smacking Jack away, your hand shot up into the air. “Oh, I’ve got a question,” you barked.

Gabe's mouth fell open to say something right as Jack cleared his throat and muttered, “Hey uh, you alright there, sweethear-?”

“Did either of you two assholes ever plan on telling me how you personally took this op from Jesse and Hanzo so you could manipulate me into eventually fucking the both of you?” you sarcastically cut him off, “Or were you just going to go and keep that to yourselves? All while hoping by some gracious miracle that I would never find out?!”

“It was my idea,” Gabe rapidly declared.

Oh, that was said  _way_ too fast and  _far_ to curt to be the truth. Well, the entire truth at least.

Whipping your head in his direction, you narrowed your eyes at his blank expression and his hand gripped just a tick too tightly around the edge of his holotablet. Attention  shooting to Jack, you took in his hands seizing the armrests of his chair. Along with how he was suddenly enthralled with silently counting the number of tiles on the wall next to him.

These two motherfuckers right here.

“I’ve known you lot for around 15 years. Not to mention fucking  _one of you,”_ you derisively curled your lip at Gabe, “For roughly seven of those. Well, save that little interim where I thought you were dead.” You took cheap satisfaction in how Gabe flinched at your last words while Jack stiffened so fast that his chair creaked. “So _don’t_ ," you hissed, "Do me the god-damned disservice of thinking I’m stupid enough to not realize when you’re _fucking lying to me.”_

“He’s not lying-”

“Not according to my sources, Morrison.”

“And just who would those be?” Gabe’s voice dropped to a dangerous, uncanny rumble.

“None of your fucking business-”

“Not need to be dramatic,” Jack sniffed.

You ignored the sting of your palm from slapping a hand on the desk so hard that it sent it rattling. “You sure in the hell have some nerve lecturing me on the intricacies of drama,” you wrinkled your nose disgust, “Because colluding with each other to get me into bed isn’t _dramatic as fuck,_ am I right?! _”_

Jack balked, “We didn’t conspire to-”

“Going behind my back is the very definition of that!”

“Who in _the hell_ told you about the original op assignment?” Gabriel demanded, digging his nails into the desk so hard they were beginning to leave inky, heated indentations.

You derisively replied, “Did I stutter when I said none. Of your. Fucking.  _Business?!”_

“You best check your tone, _agent,”_ Gabriel sneered.

Jack closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a few seconds before looking back up at you. “Gabe’s not lying. But I-”

“The sin of fucking omission, Jack,” you snarled, “You know, sort of like how you conveniently didn’t tell me how you  _both_  put together this op to get into my panties?”

“That wasn’t what we intende-”

“Panties that I expect to be fully expensed for,” you cut him off while stabbing a finger into his holopad on the desk in front of you, “Considering you ruined them when you ripped them off to fuck me up against the wall-”

“Those were hand sewn, French lace,” Gabe snorted at Jack, “Cost a pretty penny.”

“Yeah,” Jack huffed, “It was pointed out-”

“Are you two fucking serious right now?!” you shrilled.

The only sound in the room was your ragged breathing. Mind spinning, everything suddenly fell into place. Your mouth twisted into a vicious grin as you snatched up your tablet. Furious typing pulled up what you needed in a matter of moments. The matrix of green implants in your left arm sparking to life, your opposite fingers whirled in the air.

“Well, would you look at that?” you scoffed at the holographic images of the documents you brought up to hang in the air, “It’s the op assignment as directly handed down from Commander Amari. And who’s damned signature is on the bottom page first?” You enlarged the sheets and swiped them out to a handful of images one right next to the other. “One Commander. Jack.  _Morrison.”_

Mouth pressed into a thin line, Jack yanked himself upwards to sit straighter. “That,” he gruffly started, “May be the case-”

“What, Morrison?” you sniffed, “You gonna to let Reyes fall on his sword for you like that?” You took perverse pleasure in how the color bloomed across his face. “Thought we were past that phase, hmm-?”

“You are out of  _fucking line,_  safecracker,” Jack growled.

"To the point of official reprimand," Gabriel hissed, grey smoke wafting from his lips. 

“Considering your signature is right under his,” you flipped the image around to face him, “I’d say that you’re lucky I haven’t gone the fuck off the deep end about this _.”_

His eyes shifted back and forth between the hologram and you before he briskly crossed his arms. “Of course I’d sign it,” he snapped, “I put together the op. Or have you forgotten how to read?”

“Have you?” you retorted, “Or did they not reinforce that over at fancy-ass West Point?”

You refused to flinch despite the way your heart thudded at the sight of his bared teeth. Or the growing wisps of black smoke beginning to curl around him. His eyes burned like molten lava as he hollowly rasped, _"D_ _angerously_ close to insubordination-”

“Not considering the op is over and you’re therefore no longer my commanding officer for it,” you shot right back. Your chest tightening, your heart pounded through our ribs. Your skin felt as though it was going to rip apart over your bones as you bounced your foot up and down on the tiled floor. Wiping your sweaty palms down your leggings didn’t help.

“Agent-”

“Fuck you, Reyes!”

“You really need to go and-”

“Oh,  _fuck you too,_ Morrison!” you words bubbled up from your throat with a strangled cry. “You…the two of you... _you_  set me up! Or are you going to sit here and continue to deny it with all of the evidence literally floating all damn around you?” you furiously waved at the images. 

Looking back and forth between them, you rolled your eyes; while they were excellent liars in the field and professionally, having them cornered like this made their guilty expressions almost  laughably obvious.

Grump-ass fuckers.

“Did you _really think_ that I wouldn’t eventually notice anything?!” you threw up your hands in frustration. “For fuck’s sake, I analyze patterns, program algorithms based on those and then figure how to break 'em all up for a living. It’s pretty god-damned inevitable I’m going to catch on when things aren’t, I don't know, operating in their _predictable_ way!” your voice pitched into a yell.

Shoulders slumping, Jack let out a deep, tired sigh, “We…we didn’t want to hurt you, hon-”

“Nope, nope, nope, just...fucking  _no!”_ you cut him off while holding up a palm, “You can take your little endearments and shove 'em up your ass, Commander.”

_“Cariño-”_

“Oh, and you can fuck right off the edge if a cliff with that too, Gabe!”

You didn’t even realize the hot rush of tears falling down your burning cheeks until Jack reached over to brush them away while Gabe attempted to take your other hand resting on his desk. However, you swatted them both away. “Neither of you get to be all gentlemanly now!” you bellowed.

Ignoring their stunned silence, you stumbled to your feet so hard that you knocked over the chair. As it hit the floor with a jarring clatter, you snatched up your bag and fled to the door.

“You know what the sad part about all this bullshit is?” you sloppily wiped at your puffy face as you spun around to face them, “If you’d have just, let's see, _asked me_ if I wanted to be a part of you two? Probably would’ve said yes.” Wrenching open the door and refusing to look back at them, you snarled, “Thanks for going and fucking everything up. Then again, I’m the idiot for being so fucking surprised at that!”

As far you were concerned, the sound of you slamming the door so hard that the glass shook in its frame proved an appropriate way to end the conversation. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anyone wandering the halls. So you had plenty of time to make for the elevator. Repeatedly punching the button for your floor,  the elevator couldn't come fucking fast enough. 

* * *

You nearly kicked in your door when you arrived to your rooms.

“ATHENA!” 

 _“How may I help you?”_  her soothing tones washed over you.

You lowered your voice, even as it trembled, “Initiate privacy protocols at their highest level.” The sound of your door firmly locking gave you a hint of comfort. You hurled your bag down on the sofa in the den. Taking multiple breaths and closing your eyes, you furiously fanned your hands in front of your sweaty face. “I don’t want anyone disturbing me. Or overriding the protocols either,” you furiously ordered. “Unless my biometrics show that I’m distressed. Or dead,” you added. Because it would be dumb as hell if you died on account of needing actual help and no one was able to get in.

 _“Along with your initial distressed call to me, your temperature is elevated. As well as your heartbeat. And you appear to be expelling oxygen at a raised level,”_ Athena informed you.  _“The measure of your voice also continues to relay…heightened aggravation.”_

Sprinting to the kitchen, you yanked open your fridge door before inspecting your pantry. Excellent, you were stocked up with groceries that’d last a couple of weeks. Even then, you could order up food from the mess hall and have it delivered for an extra fee. “That’s because Reyes and Morrison are being rat bastard motherfuckers,” you barked out.

 _“Noted,”_  Athena smoothly replied. After a long pause, she continued,  _“Shall I relay such to them should they attempt to disturb you?”_

The image of the program calmly repeating your words at the duo had you letting out harsh laughter. What the hell, might as well.  “Yeah,” you replied, “I’d love for you to do that. Remember, emphasis on ‘rat bastard motherfuckers.’”

_“I will ensure that it is said.”_

“You’re the best, Athena,” you glanced at the ceiling.

_“I was created to protect my agents and ensure they remain in peak condition, both physically and mentally.”_

You could work with that. “Thanks, Athena.”

_“You are welcome. Privacy protocols in place. I recommend that you get some rest, agent.”_

“Good advice,” you muttered. 

After taking a long shower, you changed into your PJs and stumbled into bed. You tried to distract yourself with the backlog of TV shows you’d recorded. Along with a couple of bottles of wine. It was a lost cause. You hated how you had to keep wiping away even more tears. God, you must have looked like a blubbering mess. 

What the hell was wrong with you?

You were one of the top five safecrackers in the world, be it digitally or physically. Always calm, cool and collected, you gained a steadfast reputation the criminal underworld. Then Blackwatch caught up with you all those years ago. Instead of tossing you in prison for years on end, they recruited you for your skill set. You eventually earned your way up the ladder to have Reyes directly commanding you.

So what if he was a hero of the Omnic Crisis? It didn't mean he wasn't initially a scowling, sarcastic hard-ass. Except it turned out he was distant with everyone until they gave him a reason to trust them. Once you passed his internal tests? The real Gabriel came out.

He constantly checked on his teams to ensure their stability when he wasn’t drowning in paperwork. Remembered odd little facts about everyone he met. Asked after people’s families. Was like a kid in a candy store during major holidays and led base operations in decorating accordingly wherever he was stationed. Which only made Talon’s infiltration of Blackwatch and its betrayal all the more heartbreaking. No wonder he took to the Reaper persona so well.

You weren’t around in the early days of Overwatch, but you’d heard the stories. Jack and Gabriel fell into a relationship during their SEP days that deepened during the Omnic Crisis. Unfortunately, the UN decided to promote Jack ahead of Gabe to lead Overwatch in the aftermath. The tension and little blow-ups apparently almost ruined them both. Nevertheless, between Ana’s intolerance for grudge-filled shenanigans, Reinhart’s endless optimism, Angela’s soothing touch, Torbjörn’s pragmatism, and Gérard Lacroix's constant vigilance, they carried on. Though in cycles of warm contentment and disdainful hostility.

Then there came that bizarre sex stimulant incident between you and Gabe. It occurred during one of Jack and Gabe’s icier periods (though you had no idea they were a couple back then since it was only rumor among those outside of the founding members and those closest to them). To put it bluntly, you volunteered to fuck the toxins out of Gabe to keep him alive since you were both on each other’s OW-7069 medical release forms. He would’ve done the same for you. Along with anyone else under his command if it meant saving their lives.

_Populus semper. Primum missio._

_People always. Mission first._

Afterward, Gabe all but dragged you into Jack’s quarters to navigate everything. Miraculously, you all found an arrangement that could fulfill the needs of trio of you. It wasn’t as though Commander Morrison had any designs on you at the time. Spending most of your life on the run after your grandparents died in your early teen years, you weren’t use to emotional attachments. And Gabe had plenty enough to give the both of you. He also set it up so that you moved into being an independent contractor hired by Blackwatch from then on out. You now technically avoided conflicts of interest since you were no longer Gabe’s subordinate.

Admittedly, outside of your paycheck coming from a Blackwatch shell company, nothing changed. Well, your sex life vastly improved since you and Gabe left the proverbial door open to each other’s quarters. Meanwhile, you and Jack always gave each other wide berth when it came to Gabe. You were distantly civil and respectful of each other. Yet you never had any sort of deep conversations.

Now, both of them wanted that to change. Likely since their relationship was mostly repaired. The question was, did you? Even after all the shady crap they just attempted to pull off? 

Honestly, you were too drunk and bone-tired to think about any of it at moment. So you settled for drifting off into a fitful sleep without even bothering to turn off the TV. Tomorrow would hopefully dawn a little more clearly and with a lot less bullshit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Notes:**
> 
> _“Or did they not reinforce that over at fancy-ass West Point?”_ \- It’s said that Gabriel was a senior officer with veteran status when he went into the SEP while Jack was a new recruit after joining the military at 18 years old. However, I believe it’s listed somewhere that Gabe is only a year older than Jack. As that doesn’t make sense with the info we currently know, especially since Gabe was Jack’s superior officer during the Omnic Crisis, my headcannon is that Gabe went to West Point for college. Mostly because you’re automatically an officer upon graduation. That way, it makes sense that Gabe was Jack’s commander despite being just a year older. 
> 
> _Populus semper. Primum missio"_ is Latin for “People always. Mission first." This isn’t my own saying. Rather’s a tweak on the unofficial motto of the U.S. Air Force, which is “People first. Mission always.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, SO sorry that it’s taken this long for an update. Between seasonal insanity at my real job, moving and then being without the internet for a while, life has been crazy.
> 
> But yooooooo, we found out what Reyes’ real voice sounded like during the Uprising event! And we found out that he, Jack and Ana all seemed to get along pretty well and totally trusted each other. All the way up until roughly just a year before The Fall. So it looks like Blizzard is doing a bit of retconning to not make Gabe a huge, evil, “I DESERVED TO RUN OVERWATCH!” lame villain they set him up to be. Which is totally awesome with me. Because I honestly never bought it that someone waits 20 years “to take their revenge” over a _promotion._ That just makes no damn sense, I’m just sayin’. 
> 
> In the meantime, while this fic is technically second person, I don’t want to make it all about Reader since I feel like that would come off as too self-involved. So I’ll be shifting to third person throughout. Otherwise, this is a long chapter, so hopefully it's not too rambling and full of boring exposition.

You spent all of your time working from your quarters as much as possible. Anything to avoid Tweedledum and Tweedledumber. 

Thankfully, your growing obsession with tracking down the obnoxious Mikkel Thygesen kept you completely preoccupied. Even more so once you were able to determine he’d breached the Talon servers multiple times for roughly 18 months or so from the information you analyzed. Yet there were no public Talon leaks or indications of them paying off Sombra's collective with the data Thygesen stole. Only records of Talon payoffs to him directly. There was also a distinct lack of chatter in the dark web communities you constantly monitored. Thygesen was essentially a ghost in relation to this. Not only to you but also to Sombra. Funny, considering he was part of her hacker collective. 

It didn’t make sense. Everyone knew that Sombra had a vicious, personal hatred for Talon ever since they cut their ties with and then proceeded to decimate the Los Muertos gang.

Word in the criminal underworld was that Talon had run afoul of the gang’s freedom-fighting origins when Sombra leaked Talon’s ties to the Vishkar Corp. Los Muertos didn’t appreciate the terrorist organization acting as their supposed allies while double-dealing with Vishkar. Particularly since the Indian conglomerate was trying to pull the same, calculated, increasingly violent gentrification antics in El Dorado they attempted in Rio that Lucio and his allies put a stop to years ago. The leak forced Viskar to back off to lick its wounds. At the same time, with Talon firmly under Doomfist's control, they took their usual murderous route with Los Muertos; within two years, they were mostly eradicated and Sombra disappeared from sight.

To no one’s surprise, she was able to eventually re-emerge alive and well. Though this time with a collective of global, anonymous hackers at her back. So why in the hell would one of her own in Thygesen be working with her enemy? Perhaps a false flag for Sombra to get to that server? Similar to that scam op at Volstaya Industries she ran with Gabe years ago he’d told you about? Except again, Thygesen appeared to be guarding the servers as part of the security team. If he were looking to snatch the information, it would’ve made far more sense to drop out of his cloaking  _after_ you took your info and just force you to hand over the memory chips.

Something about the entire situation smelled foul. And you were old enough to know when to trust your gut.

You exhausted your leads in locating Thygesen within roughly a week and a half. Now, the only way to connect the puzzle pieces was direct contact with Sombra herself. It looked like you’d have to go and set up the usual trap.

Making a virtual lockbox appear like a copy of an old, pre-fall Overwatch server and stuffing it with useless files as bait was a piece of cake. With a prize appearing that ripe for the taking and so thoroughly encoded, she’d likely claim the hack for herself versus using an underling. The real challenge would be catching her in the act. As well as keeping her on the line long enough to negotiate. There were thousands of reasons and a long resume as to why she was the best. You couldn’t help but respect her for it. Truth was, there was no way in hell you could beat her on her home turf out in cyberspace.

 _So eliminate her playing field and force her onto yours,_ you mused.

It took a few days to lay the digital trap. Once set, you ordered Athena to immediately contact you as soon as the breech began. Now, it was just biding your time for when the slippery hacker would strike.

* * *

" _Warning; digital breach in progress. Warning; digital breach in progress…”_  Athena lit up your quarters in strobing lights. The accompanying loud beeps jerked you awake from your awkward sleeping position on the couch in your living room.

Wiping the drool off your face, you let out a curse as your foot hit an empty wine bottle on the floor and your arm knocked off a plate of leftovers from your coffee table. You willed away your exhaustion and soreness before checking the clock on the wall. It was around half-past three in the morning. Fleeing to your office, a lock of the door and the press of your palm to the glass walls turned the now enclosed space to slick, gleaming whiteness. Overwatch had some of the best encryption on the planet for communications. Yet you still added another layer of top-secret settings before engaging with your virtual burglar. Better safe than sorry.

Taking a deep breath, you flexed your fingers to activate your implants, brought up your virtual keyboard and swept open a holoscreen.

 _“_ Well isn’t this funny? _”_  Sombra snorted with toss of her pale, blush-colored hair. Its ends dyed dazzling, florescent pink, she brushed it off her shoulder with a flippant sweep of her black-gloved hand. “Aren’t you a bit old to be setting up silly bait like this,  _mi amiga?”_

“Hello Sombra,” you grit your teeth. It took a hell of a lot of willpower for you to flatly continue, “And I’m not your friend.”

“Obviously, since you keep rejecting my lovely offers to join the Collective.  _Eso es lamentable para ti,”_ she smirked. “Then again,” she snapped her polished, pink nails. Leaning in, she rested her cheek on her hand and tilted her head to the side, “You must be  _desperate_  to find me.”

“Oh, I’d say it’s pretty damn interesting having to seek you out,” you hummed, “Considering I’m facilitating adding your group of hellions to the international terrorist watch list?”

“Like I haven’t heard  _that one_  before,” she snickered with a careless shrug. “Apparently, the Overwatch Old Folks’ Home needs better entertainment.  _Qué lástima._ How’s Gabe doing? Still playing goth dress-up and being all poor little Edgelord?”

Your blood boiled at her blasé dismissal of all the hellish crap Gabe had thrown at him over those painful years. Even if you were currently pissed at him. Biting your lower lip so hard you nearly drew blood, you dug your nails into your palm under the desk. Finally, you forced yourself to smile.

“Oh, I’ve kept myself plenty busy,” you waved up in front of you a holoscreen mugshot of Thygesen. There was no reason to directly lie about Overwatch’s return considering who you were dealing with. “Tracking one of yours at various Talon functions has been  _loads_  of fun.”

“No better way to get under their skin then to send one of my own to troll, eh?” she retorted a little too quickly. “ _Disculpeme,”_ she breezily continued, tapping at her side of the screen, “I have real business to attend to-”

“Sorry,” you shrugged while waving up numerous holoscreens of security footage you’d gathered. They clearly showed Thygesen at various Talon-suspected facilities and holding meetings with known Talon associates in public spaces. “Apparently, this,” you gestured at the active screens on your end, “Isn’t worth a discussion.”

Sombra’s gaze darted around your screens before she let out a huff of indignation. “You waste my time,” she drummed her fingers against her check, head still resting on her hand.

“My mistake. I thought it’d be polite of me to give you heads up. Especially concerning my upcoming leak showing how willingly your precious collective just  _loves_  working hand in hand with avowed terrorists. Or do you prefer dealing with the aftermath of such terrible PR?”

Sombra narrowed her violet eyes before pursing her lips. Suddenly, she broke out into a wide smile. “Like I said,  _amiga,_  he’s gathering information.”

Now it was your turn to smirk. “Spin it all you want. But a picture, or  _pictures_  in this case, are worth a thousand words. Particularly when you have the numbers to back them up,” you closed the screens before waving up more. “Funny how Talon has never been subtle with their blackmail payouts when they think their servers are secure from infiltration.” Now a handful of screens showed banking information detailing their transfer of money to Thygesen you’d culled from their server.

Sombra let out a mild noise of annoyance and flicked her fingers at you. “Who do you think you’re dealing with eh?” she arched a well-shaped brow,  _“Esto no es una hora amateur, vieja.”_

“Like I said,” you leaned back and crossed your arms, “The public doesn’t take kindly to their supposed keepers of the truth getting tarnished with a criminal brush. Not to mention, the crack down from the rest of law enforcement crisscrossing the planet."

Her loud laugh echoed around you. After a while, she even wiped away a few tears of amusement. "C'mon, you think those bumbling idiots are ready to take me on?  _¡Dios mio, eres tan divertida!"_

“Actually," you licked your lower lip as though deep in thought, "I don't see Talon going easy on you for this either. I mean, rumor has it that your dear friend, Akande, personally directed the operations that pretty much wiped out your old gang. Lord knows thus successors will make sure not to miss your thorn in their side a second time, hmm?"

A murmur of cursing Spanish suddenly filled your ears before Sombra’s side of the screen inexplicably went black. You froze, eyes widening. Perhaps you’d been wrong in your gambit…

A few tense minutes passed before the hiss of static popped around you. Your screen was once again filled the sight of her. Full lips pressed together into a thin line, her fingers were steepled in front of her on her desk.  _“¿Qué deseas?”_ she hissed

“Mikkel Gustav Thygesen delivered directly to me,” you nodded, “ _Alive_ , completely unharmed and within 48 hours.”

 _“Imposible!”_ she whined, “I have no idea of his current location-”

“You’re a terrible liar, Sombra.”

“And you have a terrible ‘poker face’ as they call it,” she tightly chuckled. “What, you think I put tracking devices in all my friends? It's called trust,  _mi niña._ Something your broken little group lost decades ago,  _si?_ " You held back a snarl at her easy insult as she pressed on, "My people only bother me if they have something valuable to trade-”

“Or if you have an assignment for them,” you cut her off, “So create one to lure out your traitorous Dane.”

 _“No me chingues,"_ she rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I need a month-”

“Two weeks,” you held up two fingers. “Two.  _Weeks._ Or I leak everything. Same goes if he turns up mysteriously dead. Considering Talon has no allies among the public, anything associated with them is poison and you and I both know it. So unless you want your good name destroyed and your collective hunted down, I expect Thygesen’s location.”

You would’ve found how she dropped her head back for a dramatic, deep sigh as she threw up her hands rather hilarious in any another situation. Slowly cracking her knuckles, she finally faced you again. “I’ll need a week to set it up,” her mouth curled with disdain, “Then I’ll contact you with the coordinates.”

Ignoring the rush of satisfaction that sent your heart pounding, you waved your hand around the room for emphasis. “This channel is always open,” you coolly retorted, “See you then.”

 _“¡Me cago en la madre que te parió!”_ she muttered.

“Always a pleasure, Sombra,” you smirked before swiping off your screen and shutting down your tablet.

Now, all you had to do was ensure you didn’t get killed in the inevitable crossfire between Thygesen and his former employer. Not to mention all the ripe opportunities to get double-crossed.

* * *

It’d been over a week and neither Gabriel nor Jack had heard or seen anything of you whatsoever. You’d even denied them access to your biometrics, making it impossible for them to track you within Watchpoint electronically. All they knew was when you entered and exited the entire facility. Athena also made it extremely clear to them what you thought of them. Of course, no normal space proved impenetrable for Gabriel. At the same time, it wasn’t worth it to piss you off even more. At least not yet.

Gabriel stalked down to the practice range located in the basement of Watchpoint. Finding solace and blowing off steam at the range was an old habit for him. He’d learned to shoot from his stepmother, after all.

Due to a lingering illness, Jimena Reyes passed away when Gabe was only eight years old. His mother’s death left him, his younger brother and his father to mourn. Four years later, his father remarried to Rear Admiral Shaundra Desiree Johnson. A naval veteran of the NATO wars, her ancestors fought in every major U.S. conflict dating back to the Civil War. Back then, her great-great and then some grandfather escaped from a plantation in South Carolina to join a battalion of the U.S Colored Troops fighting for the Union.

Shaundra didn’t have any children of her own. Her years of military discipline combined with Gabe’s increasingly strong personality spelled a decidedly belabored relationship with her eldest stepson. That was until the day she was called down to his high school in the middle of his freshman year. Apparently, there was a need to sort out why exactly he ended up in the principal’s office with his right knuckles split, a black eye and missing a front left canine tooth.

“You should see the other asshole,” Gabe muttered at her unusually concerned expression.

“Can’t,” she shrugged, “Considering he’s at the hospital right now getting his arm set in a cast from multiple fractures. Oh, and trying to remember his name as a result of his concussion. You know, from how you hurled that basketball straight into his face during gym class?”

“Fuck ‘im,” Gabe hissed, slouching lower in his chair. His seething silence fell between them as they waited for the principal to return with the suspension files to upload into his record.

"You want to tell me anything else about what happened?" Shaundra finally asked.

Gabe barely grunted. He absolutely refused to show his surprise at the lack of accusation in her voice. Pressing the synthetic gelled icepack harder to his swollen eye, he scowled, “That  _fuckface_  shouldn’t have been shoving around Lee again.”

“He’s that boy you’re dating, right?”

Gabe’s head shot up at her nonchalant question. He’d purposely taken on a load of extracirriculars since his father got promoted to senior engineer with a vice president title at the tech firm he worked at. Which meant his dad was constantly on business trips now. So he and his stepmom were like passing ships in the night at home. Between that, the  awkward silences and the brisk conversations between them that only lasted a few minutes at a time, there was no indication she knew anything of his personal life.

Curling his lip with derision and wiping a bloody palm down his track pants, Gabe sniffed, “Like you give a fuc-”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she interrupted with an arched a brow.

“Told them to call  _dad.”_

“And your father called me since he was on his way to the airport.” Before Gabe could get in a word edgewise, she casually continued, “So you were defending your boyfriend then? Don’t see any particular problem with that.”

He was about to spit out an angry retort. But her words left him momentarily frozen. Shoulders heaving as the adrenaline from the fight wore off, he worried his lower lip with his teeth. “About damn time somebody beat Chev’s bitch-ass,” he grumbled, “Being an asshole like always. Would’ve fought him for doing the same to anybody else.”

“That so?”

“‘Course  _you_ don’t believe me-”

“You know,” she quietly cut him off as she began examining her nails, “They’re loads of ways to wreck someone up pretty good without leaving too many marks.”

Gabe's eyes widened at her easy admission. However, he swiftly schooled his expression back to scornful.  _Yeah, so this is a fucking trap_ , his mind furiously spun. “Last I checked, killing kids at school is pretty fucking illegal.”

For once, she didn’t berate him for his continued cursing. Instead, she let out a loud laugh. “Good God, who said anything about murdering anyone, Gabriel? I’m talking about learning to defend yourself.” Tilting her head to the side, her dark eyes took him in. “You’re a still a skinny ‘lil thing, though that likely won’t be the case for long considering how tall your father is.” She tucked a braid behind her ear before she confidently said, “There’s hope for you yet. How about we make a deal, kiddo-?”

“I’m not  _your_ kid,” Gabe snorted while looking away. He focused on the holoscreen board mounted on the wall behind the principal’s desk. Filled with flashing, scrolling announcements, it served a decent distraction.

“Fine,” she shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I can’t teach you how to get the upper hand against, what’d you call him? Oh yeah, ‘bitch-ass assholes’ like this Chev nightmare.”

He shifted in his chair just enough to see that there didn't appear to be any traces of bullshit about her proposition written across her face. Then again, he could always back out as far as he was concerned.

Rolling his eyes, he muttered, “Whatevs. You go right on ahead," his fingers toyed with the black stud in his ear, "Try and teach me how to kick someone’s ass if you think you can.”

Her sharp chuckle met him. “So much enthusiasm out of you.”

“Not _my_ idea, remember?” he snapped.

“A valid observation,” she smoothly replied and held out her hand. At his annoyed expression, she softly chided, “Shake on it.”

“Why?” Gabe derisively asked to cover his genuine curiosity.

“Because it shows that you’ll do your best to keep your word,” she reached down and took his hand into a firm handshake. “That’s what good people do. And I think,” she gave his hand a quick squeeze, “You’re a good person, Gabriel.”

Somehow, Shaundra negotiated a week’s suspension down to two days. That same weekend, she began training her stepson in how to keep himself safe. Of course, their relationship didn’t immediately mend. It took weeks to establish trust. Months more of minor setbacks and negotiations for it to grow. At the same time, she simply wouldn’t allow him to give up. While he initially grumbled and groaned, Gabe’s begrudging respect for his stepmom grew into burgeoning faith.

He was still rarely home due to his extracirriculars come senior year. But he no longer found his living arrangements unbearable. Far from it.

No matter her naval career, Shaundra raced around the house whooping with joy when Gabe opened his admissions letter from West Point. The monthly care packages stuffed with his dad's baked goods, his brother’s sketches to hang around his quarters and her letters arrived without fail during the school year. Gabe relished the summers spent back home in Los Angeles. Her cheers matching his dad's and brother’s were some of the loudest he heard upon graduation.

Her calloused fingertips delicately traced the Brigade Commander Insignia patch on his dress grey cadet jacket. It was the highest rank one could achieve in their fourth and final year at The Academy.

“Couldn’t be any prouder of you, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Shaundra.”

“I’m sure your mother’s looking down on her baby boy.”

She quietly passed him a tissue. He was grateful at how she pretended to be suddenly engrossed in flipping through the graduation program on her holotablet as he wiped at his eyes.

Mind spinning back to the present, Gabriel took in the agent behind the desk of the weapons locker at the target range. She silently raised her brows when he requested a bow and quiver of arrows versus his usual guns.

“Commander,” she drawled as he signed out for them. When Gabriel hesitated, she looked up at the clock before flashing him a sympathetic grin. “He’s been in there for less than an hour. You two are the only ones down here at 3 o’clock in the morning, sir,”

Gabe jerked his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Lieutenant Pradesh.”

“Yes sir.”

Gathering up his items, he glanced downward before asking, “How’s the leg doing after Saigon?”

“Four more days until I’m cleared for field ops,” she lifted her head. “Otherwise, I sure in the hell wouldn’t be stuck down here on desk duty, sir,” she shot him a predatory smile while tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Gabe rolled his shoulders, “I remember the feeling. Still, better to heal it up all at once.”

“Won’t argue that,” Pradesh nodded. “Enjoy venting on the range, sir,” she swiftly saluted before going back to her holotablet.

Slinging the quiver over his back, Gabriel marched to stall number seven. He stared at the round target at the end of the range for a long while before misting his thumb over the fingerprint scanner on the waist-high shelf in front of him. The slick, white plastic stall lit up with a colorful array of LEDs.

 _“Welcome, Commander Reyes,”_ Athena’s soothing tones announced,  _“Shall I prepare your usual session with your current weapon of choice?”_

“No limits on the session rounds,” he ordered.

 _“As requested_.” The flashing blue and red holographic outlines of the targets in front of him began calibrating. At the same time, more training bots scattered throughout the warehouse-sized space whirred on.

A familiar, dry chuckle echoed on Gabriel’s right. “It seems that you are preparing to exercise your frustrations on these defenseless robots.”

“Nothing but tin cans,” Gabe waved a swirl of mist across the wall of his stall. His motion turned the opaque white to clear, allowing him to see into the next stall. Nocking an arrow on his bow string, he tersely nodded, “Pradesh says you’ve been here for a while, Shimada.”

Hanzo shrugged before swiftly drawing an arrow and letting it loose. It shot one of the training bots square in the forehead with a crackle of electricity. “She is correct.”

“Jesse’s currently out on a prolonged mission, I take it?”

A trio of arrows not only hit one of the stationery targets but also two moving training bots below it. “How do you know of such information?” Hanzo sarcastically replied.

Gabriel smirked before releasing one of his own arrows. It punched through one of the still targets a few inches below the bull’s-eye.  Looking over to the sparkle of the engraved gold ring dangling from Hanzo’s left ear, he smirked, “Call it a hunch."

Gabe easily recalled Jesse proudly introducing the archer to him.

It took Gabriel nearly a year to accept Jack's offer of a truce after they realized all the misunderstandings and that they were after the same answers as to who actually brought down Overwatch. He was greeted with Athena' screeching warnings, lockdown and all sorts of weapons pointed at him when he showed up to Watchpoint Gibraltar. After that? A month spent in a containment chamber in the basement. Two weeks after his release from it, he allowed Angela to stabilize him using both her and Winston’s research. Six weeks after that, Jesse introduced him.

During all that time, Ana, Jack, and Jesse were virtually the only ones who didn’t flinch, look away or outright avoid him. Fareeha didn't either, quietly relieved to miraculously have her "Uncle Gabe" back whenever she visited her mother on base. Genji oddly enough seemed to have little issue with him too. Not that he blamed the others. Considering the circumstances of how  he’d crossed paths with them while undercover in Talon, taking potshots at your now current teammates with hellfire shotguns was bound to create a shit-ton of tension.

It was obvious the boy (well, nearly middle-aged man now. Jesus, they grew up fast) was sweet on the archer. Except Gabriel didn’t see the same coming from the taciturn, older Shimada brother. He didn’t contain Genji’s wry sense of humor. Nor his calm sense of self begotten through years spent with that enlightened omnic. While Hanzo appeared reserved and in utter control, it wasn’t hard to miss the warring intensity of emotions boiling just beneath the surface. Not that Gabe made gaining his friendship easy. Neither of them liked to be questioned or tested. They both had little time for suffering fools. They also struggled with the sins of their pasts. Which wasn’t helped by mostly everyone else on base knowing about their histories.

It was no surprise how they slowly circled around each other like hunters waiting to strike.

Eventually, Gabe found that like him, Hanzo proved far too familiar with guilt and regret. Regret for their past failures. Guilt over attempting to kill the people closest to them driven by supposed duty and misplaced fury. All of which caused them to shove away those who offered them forgiveness since they refused it for themselves.

“Another heated discussion between you and your Commander Morrison has brought you here again?” Hanzo intoned.

Gabe could never fault the elder Shimada for getting straight to the point. Focusing, he grunted, “Not the case...this time.”

Hanzo looked down to tighten his bowstring. His head popped back up, realization dawning across his face. “Then this involves your hacker who returned from your old days before the fall?”

Gabe’s shrug of affirmation had Hanzo tilting his head in appraisal. “Thief, not hacker. At her insistence," he firmly replied. "Despite her similar skill set to, well, a  _hacker_. Anyway, long story,” Gabriel huffed. He frowned as his arrow missed the moving training bot by a few inches. No wonder he preferred guns.

Hanzo immediately shot off a trick shot that almost made Gabe give an impressed whistle. Then again, he  _knew_ the other man took the difficult shot on purpose in response to his own crappy one.

“I have time,” Hanzo murmured, “Should you wish to share.”

Worrying his lower lip with his teeth, Gabe ran a thumb up and down the arrow dangling in his hand. He took in Hanzo with a sideways glance. The archer pretended to ignore him in favor of firing off a volley of experimental, motion-detecting shots Winston had him testing out. Gabriel always appreciated the other man's patience. In another life, he would’ve made an excellent Blackwatch agent alongside his brother.

“Your sigh tells me that you are close to revealing what pulls at you,” Hanzo interrupted his musimgs, “But if you wish to work in silence, that is your decision.”

“Good God," Gabriel’s rueful laugh caused Hanzo to whip his head around to take him in. “If you and Jesse decide to have kids, you’ll be the damn king of pulling guilt trips on those poor suckers.”

“And Jesse shall be a master of bringing them trouble,” the corner of Hanzo’s mouth twitched in a fleeting grin.

The two continued firing off shots. Gabe appreciated Hanzo’s advice whenever his missed by too far. Of course, he wasn't within range of Hanzo’s expertise. But it never hurt to familiarize oneself with other weapons. Especially one so silent.

After gathering up spent arrows from the range for a third time, Gabriel returned to his booth. He leaned against the back wall and wiped a hand down his face before catching Hanzo’s dark gaze. “Let’s just say I made some shitty assumptions about her,” Gabriel's shoulders heaved, “Treated her personal life like a mission to be executed and solved. In laymen’s terms?” He let an arrow fly, his noise of irritation loud as it completely missed its mark. “I fucked up.”

“Just you?” Hanzo doubtfully asked as his arrow hit the same target Gabriel meant to.

Gabriel threw up his hands up in a twitchy shrug. “Fine," he hissed, "Jackie too.”

Hanzo silently nodded in acknowledgement.

At that moment, Gabriel was pleased that the other man wasn’t one for lectures. He certainly wasn’t in the fucking mood for one. All he required was to spill his guts to a third party who wasn’t directly involved in the whole fiasco. Not going into the seedier details made it a hell of a lot easier to do just that.

“You act as though I know nothing of atonement,” Hanzo took in the targets furthest from them. Only Ana ever managed to hit them with any regularity.

“Listening to me mouth off must be a  _thrill_  for you.” His words dripping with cynicism, Gabriel missed his next shot by a mile with a clenched curse.

“You are assured that this will stay between just us,” Hanzo sincerely replied.

“Considering he helped this all blow the hell up?” Gabriel rolled his eyes, “Appreciate it.”

“Surely you must know-?”

“That Jess didn’t mean for his mouth to run away with him?” Gabe briefly closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“You and I are both highly aware that it is far more prudent to appear less clever than you really are than to look cleverer than one actually is,” Hanzo coolly retorted. Gabriel could swear the other man was holding in laughter despite his implacable expression. Pulling an arrow from his quiver, Hanzo’s fingers began stroking the sharp end of it. “Jesse excels at the former versus the latter. It has served him well in his missions. For people are swift to make underwhelming assumptions about him.”

“Only to regret it with a bullet to their face later,” Gabe proudly declared.

Hanzo shrugged and murmured, “Is it any wonder he was one of you most elite field agents?”

“And most trusted,” Gabriel nodded. “I did personally train the ingrate,” he wolfishly grinned.

“It is no surprise how the bounty upon his head has steadily increased,” Hanzo replied. “Which has yet to be collected,” he added almost as an afterthought before letting loose his arrow. The scattershot ricocheted off the walls before spinning through every single target in front of them.

“I expect no less of him.”’

Hanzo crisply retorted, “So we both know that Jesse undertakes _nothing_ without thorough deliberation.”

He found it almost comical how Gabriel’s expression smoothly slid from contemplative to sharply astute. Only within the safety of Watchpoint and around those that he held in absolute trust would the Commander allow himself to appear so open.

Gabe grit his teeth, “That wretched little Clint Eastwood knock-off!” He clutched his hand on the tempered wire of his bow so tightly that it thrummed and threatened to break. “Sure in the hell explains how she knew about the mission history-”

“Yet it was revealed to her to ensure she was not taken advantage of, yes? I would call that reasoning noble enough to ignore his methods. So similar to Blackwatch,” Hanzo fired off an arrow, its sharp point thudding into the training bot's neck with a mechanical whir, “Wouldn’t you say?”

“No shit,” Gabe snorted.

Silence fell between the two as they each took a few more shots. Gabriel of course remained far behind his count of hitting targets, especially dead center. But he’d improved from where he started. Hanzo’s aims remained expectedly flawless.

“Truth has always motivated Jesse and his intentions,” Hanzo hummed, “I know you are aware of that, Gabriel.” Ignoring the Commander’s narrowed gaze as he continued aiming and shooting without pause, he insisted, “Truth is also the cornerstone any sustained relationship.”

“How wise,” Gabriel derisively replied.

“Not my words. They come from the mouth of your protégé.” Hanzo swallowed. “He ‘came clean,’ as you say, regarding how Blackwatch and my…brother helped decimate my clan.”

He completely missed his last shot. The only one of the night so far. 

Gabriel let out a huff of disbelief as Hanzo muttered, “All  _before_  we fell into each other’s beds. I have no doubt those closest to you would appreciate the same clarity.”

Gabriel could only give a terse nod of reply.  

As the time clicked down in the digital display of their stalls, neither of them said anything more. However, the lack of words proved companionable to them both. Soon, Athena announced the end of their time in her usual dulcet tones. Both men slowly gathered up their things.

“Thing is,” Gabe slung his quiver across his back, “People can’t change people. I know that better than anyone.”

“Yet circumstances may,” Hanzo sagely replied. “Circumstances changed you and the Commander for the better after you thought yourselves defeated. Who is to say they won’t change her? But only she may be the one to reach her own conclusion.”

Gabe sniffed, “Trust me, she’s made it abundantly clear she wants the both of us to fuck right off.”

Hanzo’s rumble of laughter would’ve left Gabe scowling if not for the archer’s reassuring pat to  his back. “And so it is for now,” he said with knowing finality

Wandering out of the practice area, Gabe checked his weapon back in to Lieutenant Pradesh as Hanzo left for his shared quarters. The long walk back to his own quarters allowed Gabe to muse on the current situation. As it was all that was left to him as far as you were concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:** While I’m fluent, this is the most Spanish I've ever typed out. So feel free to correct it if you see any mistakes.
> 
>  _“Eso es lamentable para ti”_ – “That is unfortunate for you” in Spanish
> 
>  _“Qué lástima”_ – “What a pity” in Spanish
> 
>  _“Disculpeme”_ \- “Excuse me” in Spanish
> 
>  _“Esto no es una hora amateur, vieja.”_ – “This is not amateur hour, old woman.” in Spanish 
> 
> _“¡Dios mio, eres tan divertida""_ – “Oh my God, you’re so funny!” in Spanish
> 
>  _“¿Qué deseas?”_ – “What do you want?” in Spanish
> 
>  _“Mi niña”_ – “My (female) child” in Spanish
> 
>  _“No me chingues”_ – “You are so/very annoying” in Spanish
> 
>  _“¡Me cago en la madre que te parió!”_ – Spanish curse phrase that basically translates to “I shit on the mother who gave birth to you!”
> 
> The “NATO Wars” are a made up event. In light of all the craziness going down here in the States and around the world, one hopes it never happens. 
> 
> U.S Colored Troops were a real thing though. They were regiments of Black Union soldiers formed during the U.S. Civil War, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Colored_Troops. The U.S. didn’t integrate the military until 1948 under President Harry Truman. 
> 
> On a different note, the West Point dress grey cadet uniforms they wear are amazing, http://imgur.com/CtKIyuD and I can totally see young, swaggering Gabriel looking so proud and handsome in his at graduation.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written slash in a while. So hopefully, this won't suck. And have _way_ too much talking like my sex scenes always seem to do...

Gibraltar was nothing like the wide-open plains outside of Bloomington, Indiana. The biggest difference was that limestone and shale comprised most of the rock versus being relegated to quarries to be mined. It was completely opposite to the mineral rich, dark, loamy earth Jack remembered digging his hands into during his youth. Back home, it brimmed with an array of corn, soybeans, various grains, orchards and livestock as far as the eye could see. The very land itself seemed to pour life into anything that touched it. Here, he only had roughly a quarter acre of imported soil that sat on an eastern-facing outcrop of the island. At least its location ensured the maximum exposure to sunlight. Since Jack wasn’t the only one with a green thumb, other agents also had their allotted spaces. Luckily, his plot was on a prized upper terrace. Mostly due to his seniority.

Shucking off his anorak to reveal his grey, sleeved henley, faded, broken-in jeans and dark work boots, Jack surveyed his current rotation of plants under the pale, wintry afternoon sun. The spinach and Swiss shard were doing well. They were nearly on the verge of overrunning the tomatoes. The onions were nearly ready to harvest. As were the Fuji apples from the tree on the corner of the plot. Bright orange calendula flowers, the burst of yellow winter jasmine and the dizzying array of the snapdragons lent the garden cheery color. At the same time, the snow peas were looking weak. He’d start with those first.

Anything to take his mind off your current rage at him and Gabe. It’d been damn near two weeks.

He worked for an hour or so before he caught sight of someone’s gait approaching him out of the corner of his eye. Watchpoint was expertly guarded by Athena and Winston. As well as hidden from the most of the world who bothered to care. That still didn't prevent him from dropping a hand to his sidearm hidden in the pocket of his anorak.

However, he swiftly unhanded it as the person came closer.

“Captain Amari,” Jack grunted without looking up again.

“How many times do I have to tell you ‘Fareeha’ is just fine?” she playfully scolded as she kneeled in the garden plot in front of him. “You’ve known me from birth,” she waved at herself, “Using my first name suits you far better than most,  _Commander._ ”

He glanced up to give her a rueful grin, “Considering I don’t see you ‘round here enough, keep forgetting.”

“You and I both know that ‘doddering old man who doesn’t know any better’ act and guilt-tripping has never flown with me.” Lord, she sounded so much like her mother that Jack couldn’t hold back a full smile. Especially as she added, “Not a good look, Jack.”

“I stand corrected,” he sat back on his haunches, “So long as you call me ‘Jack’ instead of ‘Commander?’”

Stealing his trowel, she gave a brief nod. “Deal. So long as that’s only around here versus when I’m illegally moonlighting on a mission with you all.”

“I ain’t gonna argue that.”

“Like Gabe always says, I’m not in the mood for being proven right,” she snickered as she dug into the cold earth.

Wiping his brow with a dusty hand, Jack took her in. Her dark hair was swept back into a messy ponytail with the beaded front ends tucked behind her ears. Today’s colors were bright purple and silver. They matched the heavy knit sweater she wore under her denim overalls. Green and brown duck boots completed her ensemble.

She didn’t have her own plot in the garden but preferred keep up her mother’s. With Ana busy commanding them and continuously collaborating with Winston to keep them all in check, Fareeha didn’t mind ensuring the garden didn’t get overrun whenever she popped in for a visit. Then again, she’d been by only a week ago. She also knew that Angela was out on a humanitarian mission on account of the recent earthquake that hit Antioch.

Something was up.

Jack figured another distraction from his own issues wouldn’t hurt. “I take it this ain’t a personal call for your ma? Or Angela?” He didn’t look up, continuing his work digging new mounds for a fresh planting of bluebells. They reminded him of home, after all. Meanwhile, he imagined Fareeha’s bout of silence was on account of her blushing at mention of their good doctor.

"Correct as always," she steadily replied after a while, “Here to see your safecracker.” Jack sucking in his breath through his teeth caused her to pause before her voice rose, “Has to do with Yama.”

Jack let out a curse and whipped his head upwards. He caught her deadly serious expression before she crossed her arms.

Yama proved a fitting title for a God Program. Named after a vengeful Buddhist god or  _dharmapāla,_ Yama was said to judge the dead, preside over the  underworld of  _Naraka_ and the cycle of rebirth. All Overwatch could do was lock it away at the end of the Omnic Crisis. They did the same with Anubis in Egypt. Along with the three remaining God Programs around the planet. Hence, Yama remained under supposedly impenetrable security protocols within the ruins of the Temple of the Six Banyan Trees in Guangzhou. It originated there via the omnium operating in the city since Guangzhou used to be China’s busiest manufacturing hub. Well, that was until the bombing runs blasted the area to hell and back during The Crisis. Most Chinese manufacturing now came out of Dalian, hundreds of miles to the north and near the Korean border. With North and South Korea reunited during Jack’s childhood, there was little fear of an unexpected nuclear strike from the peninsula.

Now, some evil fuck was taking a crack at unleashing the God program.

“Oddly enough, they attempted to free Yama remotely,” Fareeha interrupted his thoughts, “From Los Angeles. Though that makes zero sense; anyone worth their salt knows it's required to be done onsite.”

“You’ve never had a reason not to trust your instincts, kiddo,” Jack rumbled, “Someone’s trying to go throw you and Helix off the trail. Simple as that.”

Fareeha shrugged, “Funny. S _omeone_ always going on and on about the need for ‘evidence in absence of fact.’” Jack’s mouth twitched upward at her cozy turn of phrase. He'd said as much for years. Going as far back to the reconnaissance missions he led during the war. Clearly, she'd spent plenty of time around all of them in the old days to know how to lead from the front while admitting to imperfections. He supposed it reflected the upward evolution of the next generation.

“Took some leave to investigate the Yama breach personally,” she explained, “Just flew in from L.A.” Pulling a cord from beneath her sweater revealed a flash drive dangling from it. “Your resident safecracker is my best bet to translate the coding, investigate the attempt and trace its origin.”

“And how is the City of Angels?” Jack asked. All the better to avoid discussion of you.

“Same as ever. A mess of subways and trains connecting all those winding neighborhoods. All the way from the mountains to the ocean,” Fareeha went back to her work of sinking in new plants. “The usual miles of urban insanity that never seems to stop growing.”

“Sounds ‘bout right.”

Fareeha looked up at the strain of his voice. While Jack’s fingers methodically tilled the earth, he unblinkingly stared off into the distance beyond her.

“Don’t worry, Jack,” she flexed her hands before slowly wiping the dirt from her palms, “They remember him. Still mourn him even.”

His chest rose and fell a handful of times before he roughly whispered, “Good to know.”

Jack never forgot when Gabriel all but dragged him to visit his hometown in the months after the UN’s official declaration of victory over the Omnic Crisis.

Los Angeles was always a city of murals. An urban sprawl of flat walled buildings reinforced with rebar against potential earthquakes made the perfect surfaces for them. Along with the hundreds of miles of freeway walls. The calm weather where it never snowed and barely rained helped preserve the bursts of local creativity. Throw in the relaxed vandalism laws and cops too busy to cite anyone? Murals survived for decades. Or until the next cultural phenomenon drove the artists to paint over the old ones.

Right now, that phenom was one Gabriel Javier Reyes.

Across stucco, whitewash, brick and concrete, Gabriel was rendered in loving detail. Be it in black and white and reminiscent of vintage photos from over a hundred years ago. Or in a sweeping dazzle of sun-kissed color. The styles were as varied as the city’s population. Photorealism, blocky graffiti in medieval script, poppy cubism, comic book inspired Dutch angles, romantic-era symbolism. They were all filled with the same awe. More often than not, he appeared side by side with the likes of various civil rights heroes and freedom fighters, past and present.

Gabe’s personal favorite was painted on the last standing wall of the old Staples Center near the downtown financial district. Retrofitted multiple times with each new engineering advance, it took until the early days of the war to destroy a large chunk of it. Only one side of the curved arena remained. Upon it, someone painted a massive scene of Gabriel in a throwback Lakers jersey playing a pick-up game with legendary team members. It didn’t matter that most of the players passed away long ago (numbers 33, 13, 32, and 24, to name a few). That he was in the company of the city’s legion of sports champions was all that mattered. For a fan like Gabe, such a sentiment surpassed all the medals and official accolades.

From the beaches of Santa Monica. To the dense clutter of East L.A. To the sunny South Bay. To the still swanky streets of newly rebuilt Beverly Hills. And all the way back to the stomping grounds of his old neighborhood off the north 101 freeway. Wherever Jack seemed to turn, there was his commander. All despite Gabe’s insistence that he was, “just a kid from the hot-ass Valley,” L.A. embraced their sacred son.

It only make Jack love him even more.

“Someone, or some  _ones_ attempted to break into the Temple of Anubis again as well,” Fareeha growled.

Jack's mind whirled back to the present. For there was only person that this whole ugly business reeked of.

“Sombra-”

“Too damn sloppy,” Fareeha waved him off. “Plus, I don’t believe she has the motive to hold the world hostage through the threat of unleashing it; in spite of the promise of a payout, she knows better than anyone else how frightfully easy it would be for it to kill her in some very nasty ways.”

“Her enhancements,” Jack muttered, scratching at his chin, “It’d invade her through ‘em-”

“And scramble the shit out of her brains. Plus far worse,” Fareeha cocked her head at him in agreement. “Goes against all sense of self-preservation.”

Jack clenched his fist so hard, Fareeha easily heard his knuckles crack. “Talon of course?”

“With Doomfist off the radar? Yeah,” Fareeha retorted. “I’m thinking one of their factions’ attempt to step into the power vacuum with the usual ‘conflict makes the world stronger’ psychosis.”

“Always lookin’ to start some shit,” Jack grit his teeth.

Lips pressed together into a thin line and gaze shadowed, Fareeha gave him a slow nod. Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand had her letting out a deep, bone-rattling sigh. Jack immediately recognized the sound. Before it all went to hell, he’d spent many a day and night at the various Watchpoints with the same consternation, dread and plain old exhaustion invading him. How could he not when he constantly witnessed the world making the same damn mistakes over and over?

No wonder Ana wished such things would ever fall to the shoulders of her daughter. Hell, none of the old guard did.

The feel of Fareeha’s hand on his forearm caused him to focus again. She didn’t even have to ask if he was okay, her expression telegraphing the question. “Just thinking ‘bout the next steps to handle this,” he distantly replied.

Her dry chuckle told him that she didn’t believe a word out of his mouth. “It’s being handled.”

“It ain’t too long ago that I’d have been the one saying that. Then again,” he cracked a smile. “You were a lot smaller back then. Small enough to hide out from your ma and play in the foot well of my desk while I was stuck filing reports.”

Fareeha’s laugh soothed over him before she replied, “I’ll make sure to let you know if we need  your team to act further on this once your safecracker's done with her analysis. One hopes Helix may quash it before the shit hits the fan. But with their track record…” she frowned while trailing off. Narrowing her eyes, she finally continued, “Well, it’s always good to know I have outside backup I can  _trust.”_

“Appreciate the sentiment,” Jack grunted.

“Oh, I think plenty of old dogs can learn new tricks well enough,” she grinned. “In the meantime?” she threw herself forward to pull him to her in a fierce hug, “Always good to see you, Jack. And that you’re well,” her voice muffled against his shoulder.

He felt himself swiftly relax into her embrace. Tossing an arm around her, he dropped his nose to her hair. She was nearly as tall as he was. It’d been that way for years now. “Wish I could see you more often, 'lil one,” he closed his eyes for a moment.

“Me too, خال,” Fareeha softly replied.

Jack let out a stuttering breath at how easily the endearment fell from her mouth. That she still considered him worthy of it after all they’d lost and endured sent a flame of paternal warmth through him. At least some things remained the same.

“How long you ‘round for this time?” he broke the comfortable silence between them.

“Spent yesterday with mom," she smiled. "Since McCree’s out on mission, grabbed breakfast with Tracer this morning,” she started counting out on her hand. “So that leaves catching up with Winston while he makes a few upgrades to my suit. After that? Dinner with Reinhardt and Torbjörn. Then I’m out tonight. Have to make that 0600 check-in with Helix.”

“Makes sense.”

“Otherwise, I assume mother will pass this all on to your safecracker?” Fareeha pulled away from him, “Seeing that you and her aren’t exactly on the best terms at the moment?”

“How in the hell did you know ‘bout the mission…?!” Fareeha's arched brow immediately had him snapping his mouth shut. His frown of annoyance caused her to hold in a laugh as he sniffed, “Lemme guess, you stopped by Gabe's before this?”

“Of  _course_  I did." she playfully jabbed an elbow into his side. "Considering he was taking apart and cleaning a certifible arsenal of weapons in his own office instead at the range or in his quarters?  Knew something was up. He only gave up the bare minimum. You two by the way?” she rolled her eyes, “Are assholes.”

Jack sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah…and I’m thinkin’ she might see us like that, uh, permanently.

“I was always hearing around here how important it is to have faith in myself,” Fareeha shook her head and moved to her feet. Taking his large hand in both of hers, she helped tug him upwards. “Like mother always says, it’s the only way others will believe in you in turn.”

Jack shook his head in disagreement, expression stony. “‘Fraid people stopped believing in me a long time ago.”

“Overwatch returned-”

“I should’ve realized I was never the one to run the first damn time,” he gave her a rueful smile as he pulled his hand from hers, “Least not on my own. That's why I ain’t in charge now.”

Fareeha clucked her tongue to the contrary. “Didn’t stop you from keeping up the fight did it, Jack?”

Glancing away, he sighed, “No. But, uh-”

“Your personal happiness is worth fighting for.” She was so tall that she barely had to reach up to pat Jack on the cheek. It made him think of how it seemed like only yesterday when he could sweep her up with ease to give her the piggy-back rides she loved so much. “Never forget that. Even if you’ve initially screwed it all up. Everything else will work itself out.”

Jack shrugged and half-heartedly said, “I’ll try.”

“It’s always best to  _do_  rather than just try,” Fareeha raised a knowing brow, “You’ll be better for it. Particularly if you show her you’re actually contrite.” Withdrawing, she wiped hands down her coveralls and gathered up her tools. “Hope the rest of your day goes well, Jack,” she smiled.

“Same to you, Fareeha,” he gave her a quick wave before going back to pulling weeds.

After a long while, his phone buzzed with an incoming message.

_Movie here?_

Jack grinned and typed back, _Works_

_Ur cooking_

_You’d starve_   _if I didn't_

_These lies_

Biting back a laugh, Jack finished up in his plot and headed back to his quarters.

That evening, he nearly tripped over a pot of lilac colored heather flowers left sitting in front of his door. As he was heading to the mess hall to pick up the supplies for dinner with Gabe. Looking back and forth down the hall suspiciously, he cautiously flicked open the card tucked into the side of the pot.

_“May you attract good luck to your home._

_Fareeha”_

It was impossible for Jack to swallow back his grin.

* * *

Jack’s mother had always been a wonderful cook.  _“Stick-to-your-ribs food,”_  she proudly called it. Dense, calorie-rich fare made from scratch that fueled the long, tough hours they all worked around the farm. Despite the availability of omnics, they still proved an expensive investment for a small plot of family land forced to compete with the corporate farms surrounding them. So his ma taught all the kids how to cook too. No matter that he was the baby of the family and the only boy, Jack had fond memories of standing by her side in their large kitchen. Rolling out pie crusts, stirring up sauces, frying up a batch of freshly caught fish from the stream, sautéing vegetables, checking the rising bread in the oven. He knew plenty enough to survive without depending on pre-packaged garbage when he wasn't in the field.

Before he was old enough to work outdoors, the end of each day found his father coming in from the fields through the back door. Hanging his baseball cap on a hook of the coat rack, he’d greet mom with a lingering kiss before giving Jack's older sisters an affectionate ruffle of their hair while asking about their days. Grabbing a beer from the fridge was always swiftly followed by taking a seat at the kitchen table. Jack reveled in being small enough to still leap up into Pop's lap.

 _“So what’d you help your Ma cook up for us today, J?”_ he'd grin and wink after the girls wandered off to occupy themselves before dinner,  _“Bettin' it'll go knocking our socks off, huh kiddo?”_ The feel of his father's arm warmly slung over his shoulders allowed Jack to lean his cheek against the soft fabric of his plaid shirt. His comforting scent of hay, grass and earth mixed with a whiff of tobacco always let Jack know that dinnertime was near.

“Looks almost done,” Gabe said into Jack’s neck before cradling an arm around his waist from behind. “But wrapping  bacon around the asparagus?" he dropped a kiss to his shoulder, "Don’t think that makes them healthy anymore.”

"It's  _bacon_ ," Jack rumbled in supposed offense. "Technically, it belongs on everything."

“Who am I to question the chef?” Gabe threw up his hands in his usual “I'm not the one with the statue (so you can _fuck right off_ )” shrug.

“‘Specially considering I’m a hell of a lot better at it than you are.”

Gabe reveled how Jack let out a low moan as he braced his teeth along the top of his shoulder. “Says the man who  _still_  believes salt is a spice?”

“It is-”

“ _Not_ ,” Gabe amusedly cut him off, “Thanks for confirming that.”

Setting the lid on the saucepan, Jack spun around and tugged in Gabriel by his shirt. “Quiet you,” his voice took on the usual authority he used when ordering around the new recruits. Except it was made moot by his lidded gaze. He nibbled at Gabe’s ear before declaring, “Or no dinner, chump.”

“Don’t you know the Reaper only feasts on  _souls_ , Soldier?” Gabriel's voice dropped to uncannily low while hemming him in against the counter. He used Jack’s guffaw to swipe another kiss before shadow-stepping into the living room. Jack wasn’t surprised to see that he’d managed to grab two sets of dinnerware from his cabinets without leaving the doors open. Or a solid trace of his movements.

Dinner went off without a hitch before they settled in for a movie. Gabe was always amused at how Jack seemed to always start off sitting on the opposite side of the couch only to end up sprawled out across him. It was no different tonight. A third of the way in had Jack pressed up flush against him with his head resting on his shoulder. His hand slid higher and higher up Gabe’s thigh at the same time. Combined with how he nuzzled his nose against his neck, it was easy for Gabe to find himself wound up and cock half-hard. Not that he minded.

Besides, the movie wasn’t particularly good. Any idiot should damn well know that infiltrating and robbing a bank vault in one of South America's largest financial centers required  _at least_ two months of deep surveillance. Not to mention the security software analysis, algorithm disruption and systemic remediations. Bio upgrades to the heist team in order to synchronize their extended circadian rhythms (a fancy term for temporarily augmenting the hours they could stay awake without sacrificing functionality). The gradual access to various terra-drives within the bank’s network. Ideally all while utilizing a pre-engineered virus to compromise the system before you even set foot on the target grounds.

“Jesus Christ,” Jack snickered at the his huffed observations before sucking a kiss to Gabe's collarbone. “It’s  _called_ suspension of disbelief, ya fuckwit,” he chortled into Gabe’s bronzed skin.

A fluttered sigh escaped Gabe's lips. Not that he required much in the way of oxygen anymore. Well, save when his senses were heightened in ideal little situations like this. Easing a hand to hair at the nape of Jack's neck allowed his thumb to stroke the soft skin there.

"Terrible movie,” Gabe rolled his eyes. He smoothed his other hand up under Jack's t-shirt, appreciating the taut pull of skin. Nowadays, he could actually hear the pounding thrum of Jack’s heartbeat. Feel his rising temperature from the blood pumping more rapidly through his veins. The press of his palm into his lover’s side earned him a contented exhale skittering along his shoulder. “Never got this frenetic-ass, aneurism-inducing Michael Bay shit. Dude died decades ago. The style should have gone with him.”

“Ever the auteur," Jack smirked.

He refused to be distracted by Gabe's rumblings. His kiss hungry, he licked his way into Gabe’s mouth. Letting out a laughing groan as Jack’s tongue languidly slaked against his, Gabe brought his fingers up to caress his chin. It felt like forever since they’d allowed themselves something so simple as a lazy dinner and movie night.

“You can take the boy out of L.A.,” Gabe’s rich timbre churned across Jack’s ear as he withdrew, “But you can’t take the Hollywood out of the boy.”

Jack rolled his eyes as he shoved Gabe's t-shirt upwards. Pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor, Gabe stretched out across the sofa to lean back against its arm as Jack scooted upwards. Dropping his arms allowed him to balance on his hands over him. Jack's eyes flitted in admiration across the sculpted planes of his boyfriend’s lightly furred torso.

“Yet here you are bitchin' about movies,” he glided his lips to Gabe’s left pectoral before dragging his tongue across a nipple. Tracing the ridge of dark muscle, he snarked, “Thinking you need more hobbies, hon.”

"Not when you provide plenty of distraction,” Gabe’s words stuttered as he swiftly relieved Jack of his sleeveless undershirt. His hands swept down the length of heated, pale skin. Trailing skittering wisps of grey smoke in their wake across the pink flush, Gabe grinned as it seemed to grow with each of his touches.  

“What can I say?” Jack rumbled against him, “I like takin’ advantage of my half-dead boyfriend, thanks.”

 _“Pendejo!”_  Gabe friskily smacked him across the chest before tugging his fingers through his white hair.

He warmed at the feel of Jack’s smile against him only to let out a moan as the other man’s teeth nipped his way down his abs. Spreading his legs further allowed Jack to firmly settle on top of him. Gabe’s stomach clenched at Jack’s tongue tracing over him. He didn’t avoid the scars crisscrossing its cool expanse either. Hard-earned through every battle, skirmish and shit-show the world tossed at him, they proved badges of the highest honor in between his kisses downward.

As Jack suddenly dropped to his knees on the floor, Gabe shifted and planted his feet on either side of him. It allowed Jack to snatch at the waistband of Gabe’s basketball shorts and wrench them down. Gabe kicked his way out of them only to let out a shuddering moan at Jack pulling his knees over his shoulders to take his stiffening length into his keen mouth.

Tonguing Gabe’s slit, he took swiping licks at his leaking head. Sealing his lips over it as he glanced up at Gabriel through blonde lashes afforded Jack an exquisite view of his lover’s face contorted with pleasure. And granted him a few more sucks. How he dipped downward at an achingly slow pace had Gabe’s fingertips massaging his scalp. Even as he popped up off his cock.

“Fucking..tease,” Gabriel grit out, unable to hold back a deep chuckle. Jack winked up at him before running his tongue up and down in random patterns of wetness. 

No matter how long they’d been at this, Gabe always failed to suppress an stunned curse the sight of Jacks lips stretching around his thickness when he _finally_ worked his way down. His hips undulated upwards at Jack’s pleased inhale though his nose. Tenderly moving his thumb up and down Jack’s cheek, the wonderfully erotic, slick sounds of him working his cock washed over him.

Jack’s groans vibrating down his arousal as he relentlessly lapped him deep was his final undoing. A bucked, quivering snarl and Gabe came with a yearning chant of Jack’s name. Hollowing his cheeks, he swallowed him down until Gabe shakily pulled himself free.

Hauling himself upward,  Jack hungrily claimed an insistent kiss. Scratching his fingernails up and down his front granted him Gabriel’s hoarse hum of appreciation. Along with Gabe maneuvering him to lie across the sofa underneath him.

“You’ve always been too damn good with that mouth of yours,” he hitched in between his lips claiming Jack’s. Moving downwards, his teeth grazed and lightly bit at Jack’s neck, causing the other man to let out a fluttering breath of pleasure.

“Don’t see you bitchin’ ‘bout it,” Jack leered. He couldn’t hold back a gasp as Gabe sunk his teeth into his chest, just above his rosy nipple.

It was easy to remember when they finally got around to fucking each other during SEP. The snide remarks about the wide-eyed, innocent, bland corn kid from the small town Midwest went right out the fucking window. Well, at least in private. Because Jack knew  _exactly_  what he was doing. Especially considering the rampant rumors among the recruits that Gabriel certainly wasn't the first one he’d hooked up with. And that was all before the latest round of chemicals the top brass pumped into them started messing with everyone’s libidos.

 _Not much shit to do back home 'cept fuckin’ and farmin’,_ the sunny blonde drawled while shoving Gabe up against the wall of the supply closet near the mess hall. His gaze sparkled with wicked michief at Gabe's stutter of surprise. It grew louder at Jack's hurried trail of hot, slaking kisses from his neck to collarbone. They should have left bruises. Except all of the test subjects were now constantly metabolizing various healing factors to permanently bond to their systems. 

 _Well, there’s the opiods. And meth._ Jack's fierce yank at Gabe's dark blue SEP t-shirt easily ripped apart the collar down the middle. Those who hadn't ended up in medical or the grave gained at minimum 9% more muscle mass due to injections administered three weeks ago. Gabe couldn't deny it was a hell of a good look on the filthy farmboy.  _Ain’t my speed though,_ Jack's lip twitched.

Gabe would’ve sneered at the goober-ass pun. But it proved rather difficult with Jack’s big, rough hand swiftly jerking him off. All while his mouth greedily plundered his. There was also the sinful way Jack’s other hand cupped and squeezed his ass. So he settled for rolling his eyes before they slid shut.

Thoughts rolling back to the present, Gabriel frowned.

"What 'sup?" Jack reached up to smooth the furrow of his brow.

“If you died on me during the last op-”

Jack claimed Gabriel’s mouth again. His pale, calloused fingers carded through deep chestnut waves streaked with gray.

Gabe yanked himself away, causing Jack to arch a brow of confusion. Yet his expression softened at the concerned, dark hazel eyes reflecting swirls of scarlet. Azure blue the color of a summer sky stared back at Gabe as his smoky fingertips traced each aged line of his lover’s face. Every groove earned two-fold, be it in sorrow or joy.

“Fucking toxic cocktails,” Gabe hissed.

“Haven’t gotten taken out by stupid shit yet,” Jack grinned, “Sure in the hell not gonna start now.”

Gabe’s growl of annoyance wasn’t worrisome in the slightest. “Cockiness never suited you.”

“Don’t know ‘bout that,” Jack lazily sucked at Gabe’s lower lip for a bit, “You seemed to enjoy how much of a cock slut I was just now.”

A retaliatory smack to his ass only caused Jack to thrust his hips upwards. That earned him Gabe’s hand flying down to fist around his arousal. “Just for that,” Gabe purred into his ear, “Now someone’s not getting sucked off.”

“Joke’s on you,” Jack rumbled. Closing his eyes, he jerked up into Gabe’s ministrations with a groan. “R-rather you,” he gasped at Gabe’s thumb circling the beads of pre-cum leaking from him, “Go  _fuckin'_  me.”

“Not until you’re begging for it. Sorry, not sorry, babe.”

Jack’s eyes snapped open to see Gabe toothily grinning down at him, the gorgeous bastard. Snatching out to grip Gabe’s bicep, his other hand slid down to caress his lower back. 

“C’mon, Jackie," Gabe hummed with a curl of his palm tighter around Jack's cock, "I’ve got you." Jack could only lick his lower lip and vainly swallow down a whined grunt as he splayed his thighs further apart. 

Gabe beginning to move up and down with increasingly rapid strokes had Jack writhing beneath him. He dug his fingers into Gabe’s ass, pulling him impossibly close. Hot skin to cool and Gabe began rutting his hardening member into Jack’s thigh. He soon found a matching rhythm between his hand and the roll of his hips. Clocking Jack’s murmurs and rising gasps guided him to alternate between more and less pressure around him. Which in turn left Jack swimming closer and closer. But Gabe refused to let him dive over the edge.

He leaned down to give him thorough kiss. A clatter of teeth and his tongue, he reveled at his lover’s hips jolting faster.

Feeling Jack starting to shiver, he retreated. “Ain’t gonna…last long,” Jack’s words hitched in between desperate, biting kisses. His hands moved up and down Gabe’s back before one slid in between the two of them in a grab for Gabe’s once again rigid cock.  _"Now,”_ he huskily ordered, “Gabriel...you’ve gotta-”

“Fine,” Gabe chuckled with a kiss to Jack’s forehead, “Since you’re so  _insistent_.”

Leaning over the arm of the couch, he pulled open of the drawer of one of the in-tables and fished around for the bottle of lube. Jack kicked off his sweatpants, now nude as well. Rolling over to his side allowed him to stretch out with his back pressed to Gabe’s chest.

The feel of Gabe’s finger pressing into him had him nearly coming. But he forced himself to breath normally. A feat in and of itself with the addition of a second one. Reaching down, Jack toyed with his straining cock, the taste of Gabriel still in his mouth. Gabe's scissoring digits stretching him with a dully pleasant ache, Jack’s breath came more rapidly. His cheeks flushing red with each rising heave, he fucked himself into his pistoning hand.

Another rough twist and Jack's mind abruptly went blank. The wash of blistering release flooded him as he barked out his coming.

“You’re so god-damned beautiful when you let yourself go,” Gabe swore at Jack's shivered exhalations as he pulled at himself a few more times. “Jesus, fuck, look at you,” he pressed kisses behind Jack’s ear, “All flushed for me...why I’ve got to see you do it again, hmmm?”

“Fuck _yeah,”_ Jack barely manage to grit out as Gabe’s held him by the hips to press himself to his entrance. He let out a sigh of relief as he was slowly filled with each pitched thrust forward.

Gabe wrapped his arms around Jack to cradle him closer. Snaking his thighs into taut warmth, his hand slid down to Jack’s cock with a slick grasp and tug.  As he splayed his other fingers across the play of muscle along his lover's stomach, Jack dropped an arm on top of Gabe's around his middle.

A tilt of Gabe's hips hit that spot within that sent Jack rasping off a stuttering moan. Licking a fervent stripe across Jack's shoulder blade tasted the salty familiarity of sweat.  In response, Jack reached back a hand to cup around the back of Gabe’s neck. Especially as he ended the trail of his tongue with press of hot, open-mouth kisses to his flushed skin. The pulse of Gabe's hips grew more frantic and in time with his hand continuing to jerk off Jack. Jack reared back to meet his pounding thrusts with a deliciously deep moan. They moved with fluid strength, grunts and groans signaling how well acquainted they were with this carnal dance.

Gabe's ceaseless drives suddenly rolled into him burying himself in Jack's tight heat. A tremor of his cock and he came with a ragged yell of his lover's name. Jack purposely grinding against him caused his name to faster fall from Gabe’s mouth like an incantation. Rocking his hips into his ass a few more shuddering times, Gabe then stilled.

It only lasted a moment before a rash kisses fell upon Jack’s shoulders. At the same time, he wrapped a leg with Jack’s from underneath to twine them together. His hand began fisting around Jack's straining arousal once more.

“Want to hear you coming for me, Jackie,” Gabe stormily whispered into his ear as his other arm held him to his chest. Jack arched his back with a rough murmur. His eyes sliding shut, the nibble at his neck sent him reeling. Gabe’s hand flew more swiftly, only pausing every so often to thumb his wet cockhead. “Want to feel it spilling out of you, babe,” Gabe hoarsely implored, “Can you…can you do that for me?”

“ _G-Gabriel!"_ Jack reached up to intertwine his fingers with Gabe’s hand at his chest. “Oh Jesus,” he moaned, "Holy…fuckin'... _hell,"_ he swore. His other fingers scrabbled and twisted into the fabric of the couch. A grind of his ass into Gabe’s groin earned him a pleased curse.

The graze of Gabe’s teeth to the tendon of his neck had him bucking to his feverish attentions. “ _Te amo,”_ he soothed. Jack’s abs rippled as Gabe breathed, _“Te amo…desde lo más profundo de mi alma.”_

The flare of heat pooling in Jack’s stomach seemed to snap into a million little searing pieces. Another firm pull and he flew over the precipice, Gabe’s name echoing in the air. His cock pulsing, cum striped across his chest with the intensity of his orgasm. 

Gabe shadow-stepped from behind Jack only appear on his knees in between his legs. Gripping Jack’s ass and taking his cock into his eager mouth sent the soldier babbling. It grew exponentially louder as Gabe hungrily sucked while bobbing up and down. Thighs twitching and knees falling apart, Jack desperately buried his hands in his lover’s hair. As Gabriel took him all down his tight throat, a strangled whimper surged from Jack’s lips.

“God on…high… _fuuuuck!”_ he bellowed at the overstimulation. Trembling in his ebbing throes, his chest rose and fell as he struggled to catch the air in his lungs. Finally, he slid from Gabe’s mouth with a wet pop.

A swirl of scented air and Gabe was back in his original position behind him. Jack’s heavy rasps glided to a pleased sigh at how Gabriel pressed his mouth to his sweaty neck in a slow, random drag of kisses. “Sometimes...go forgetin’…that you’re…so full of tricks now,” Jack stammered, sated and loose-limbed.

“You good?” Gabriel smirked into his sweaty skin, “Because I could stop doing that if you want.”

Turning his head, Jack captured Gabe’s mouth. He let out a groan as Jack eventually pulled away, “Love ya too, sweetie.”

Gabe languidly brushed his thumb up and down Jack's ribs for a few moments before shadow-stepping from the couch. Jack stumbled to his feet as well. Holding out a hand, he tugged Gabe into the bedroom. After a quick clean up, they both flopped down onto the California king-size bed and drew up the covers.  Jack mumbled for Athena to dim the lights as he rolled to his front. Tossing an arm across Gabe’s chest where he laid on his back drew him flush against him. Only Jack’s slowing breathing broke through their comfortable silence.

* * *

“You know we fucked up pretty royally on the last op?” Gabe slowly declared.

His voice pulling Jack out of his stupor, the old soldier's eyes snapped open where he now lay spooned against his partner's back. "No shit,” he swallowed.

While Jack was able to fall asleep almost immediately with someone trustworthy at his back, it always took a while for Gabe to work through his thoughts. It was the case even before the Swiss Headquarters explosion meant he could go weeks without it.

Gabe cleared his throat, “To the point where she may never forgive us?”

Jack grit his teeth at the same time he felt Gabe freeze against him. “We can’t just let it all end like this.”

“We didn’t before when it was with Aminata,” Gabe’s voice lilted with old memories.

“Apparently,” Jack sniffed, “We were a hell of a lot more honest.”

Gabe’s dark laugh snaked around him. “Because we were basically kids back then, dude.”

Aminata Ndiaye joined the Senegalese  _Gendarmerie,_ or the country’s national police, fresh out of university. Hence, she was in the perfect position to assist in leading the local human resistance in the chaotic first months of the Omnic Crisis. Her father worked in mining while her mother was a chemistry professor at the  _Université Cheikh Anta Diop_ in Dakar. Their skills passed on to her allowed her to hone her talents as a demolitions expert. Blowing up and chemically sabotaging omnic installations and communications towers saved the population from being completely overrun.

Yet it still took over a year to reestablish uninterrupted human communication with the outside world. From there, the resistance eventually linked up with the Senegalese army. With a flair for rustling up explosive ordnance out of scraps, Aminata was swiftly recruited into Overwatch. A reputation for successful missions despite highly limited supplies only grew from there.

Her petite form honed to a finely tuned instrument caused most to assume she was far younger than she appeared. But her rapid-fire address of everyone around her brokered no fools. Their rank and title be damned. Combined with smooth skin the color of rich, warm earth, she left a memorable impression. Along with her heavily lashed, black eyes that seemed to sparkle with some private joke. That her full mouth appeared constantly quirked with a sly grin only added to it.

It was love at first sight for both super-soldiers.

“You were such a naïve dipshit,” Gabe snorted.

“Growing up in Bloomington don’t exactly lend itself to meeting different sorts of folks,” Jack tossed back. That only caused Gabe to let out a loud guffaw. “Aminata was…is,” Jack swiftly corrected himself, “Way the hell outta my league.” 

“You couldn’t string together more than two words at a time whenever she came around,” Gabe snickered, “Remember how damn red you’d get if she so much as looked your way?” 

"C'mon!" 

“Aww, _”_  Gabe laughed, “But it was  _so cute_ , baby _._ ” 

Jack gave him a shove. “’Cause skulking ‘round under your hoodies and growling, ‘Was’up?’ and 'How's it going?'worked out so well for ya? _”_ Gabe’s laugh only grew louder. Jack pushed him again, even as he whistled, “Jesus, her accent.”

“Senegalese French-” 

“That was your thing. I always went preferrin’ her Wolof,” Jack shifted closer as Gabe tangled his legs with his. “‘Sides, outside of missions, I wasn’t the one grunting every so often like I understood French. You sat there nodding like you knew what the hell she was saying for so long, she didn’t bother with English for  _weeks.”_ He barely managed to hold in a chortled snort at Gabe's kick to him.

“Worth every moment to hear her,” Gabe shrugged in Jack's arms. "Not to mention her love for blowing shit up real damn good,” he let out an impressed whistle, “How she masterminded the Amman offensive in Jordan?” 

“Absolutely,” Jack graced him with a savage smile.

Jack pulled Gabe closer, allowing him to stretch out on his side. Now, Jack could feel his heartbeat beneath his hand. It ticked slower than average after Swiss Headquarters, making him run cooler. Not that Jack minded since he ran hotter than normal due to SEP.

“Still pretty surprised she put up with the both of us for so long,” he murmured.

“Trust me,” Gabe sleepily all but ordered, “I didn’t believe it either. Probably why you felt the need to hero it up after she went missing during the Piedmont Expedition.”

“‘Cause I knew you were gonna do the same thing after the UN told you fuck off with a search party,” Jack burrowed his nose into Gabe’s shoulder. “I was expendable. You sure in the hell weren’t.”

“Liar,” Gabe clucked his tongue.

It was supposed to be a simple intelligence run to gather intel to shut down the omnium operating out of Turin. Unfortunately, both the Italian and Overwatch forces were ground to a halt roughly 100 kilometers southeast, in Bosco Marengo. Their current lack of air coverage would mean the massacre of ground forces. So Gabe refused to advance until the planes arrived up from Malta.

With her resistance experience, Aminata volunteered for recon on the local omnic com station in Casalbagliano. It was only 17 kilometers north of Bosco Marengo. Except she went alone. And didn’t return for nine hours after her assigned check-in.

Jack nearly destroyed headquarters in his rage while Gabe cursed and railed against UN High Command.

 _Ms. Ndiaye is well aware of the consequences of undertaking lone missions without a spotter. She is equipped with the standard issue SERE kit,_ the assholes droned on over the holocall.  _We cannot spare the resources for a search. Least of all, two members of the SEP into which we have poured millions of dollars of research and development._

_Meanwhile, air support has arrived. Your orders to proceed with the scheduled offensive still stand, Strike Commander Reyes. Unless you prefer court-martial, prison and a swift end to your career?_

By the time Gabriel hung up on them with a middle finger thrown up at the screen, Jack was gone. Only the sloppily scrawled note pinned to the inner flap of his tent remained.

_They can’t court-martial a corpse_

It was, up to that point, the worst 21 hours of Gabe’s life.

Nearly a day later and only a couple of hours before the air assault against the omnium, Aminata rolled into the muddy, rain-sodden camp in a stolen jeep. Jack lay slumped over and barely breathing in the seats in the back of it. She nimbly jumped out as Gabe rushed over. A press of his shaking hand to Jack’s neck felt wavering heartbeat. Ripping apart his coat, his fingers struggled to undo the clasps of Kevlar armor. No wounds there.

Why in the fuck wasn’t Jackie awake?!

A swarm of medics appeared out of the rain like damp ghosts. Gabe would’ve tossed them aside like ragdolls if not for Aminata’s bracing hand on his arm.

Her harshly whispered words poured into his ear.  _They need to attend to him, Gabriel. He’ll only survive if they can get to him…_

They carted him off to the emergency medical tents. Frozen, Gabe could do nothing but watch the spectacle.

Without warning, his other arm abruptly snapped out to wrap around Aminata’s waist. He didn’t process her pained hiss as he mindlessly hauled her to him with unwitting force. But the warm, wet feel of fresh blood on her grungy clothes caused him wrench back. She swiftly shook her head in as he grabbed her by the shoulders for inspection.

It wasn’t her blood.

He clung to her like a lifeline as she waved off the handful of medics attempting to scan her vitals. Sidestepping them, she hauled ass towards medical. Gabriel refused to let her go, trailing in her wake with his hand clutched around hers as they fled to Jack.

_Baal ma-_

_Nope…hell fucking NO. The UN needs to pay for this bullshit, not you._

_I stabilized him, but not for long._

_Love you. Him. Both of-_

_Fact that you two never gave up me says as much, rafetna...by the way, the com station?_

_Yeah?_

_Rubble and dust. Clear skies, uninterrupted air support. Ñoku_   _boku, eh?_

Aminata came out with a sprained wrist, a concussion, some cuts, bruises and lacerations. Days of supervised rest and being hooked up to an IV would cure the exhaustion and dehydration. Gabe threatened to drug her himself if she tried to participate in the in the air assault. Meanwhile, Jack took a handful of bullets to side, a laser shot burn to his left thigh that nearly sliced through his femoral artery and broke four fingers on his right hand. It would’ve likely killed a non-enhanced person.

Of course, Gabriel lied on the official report. Claiming he ordered the retrieval, he was fortunate to only receive a reprimand from the UN bureaucrats equivalent to a slap on the wrist. Likely because the return of such a valuable asset as Aminata cancelled out his insubordination. No matter that the UN didn’t even want to look for her in the first fucking place. They still predictably took credit for it. Then again, even if they decided to punish Gabe, he gave zero fucks. Not when his actions were for the sake of people he held so close to his heart.

_People always._

Aminata joined the Overwatch R&D department after the end of the war. Even though they eventually fell out of bed together, she always remained one of Jack and Gabe’s most vocal allies.  _“Because an intelligent foe is better than a stupid friend,”_ she regularly reminded them of the old proverb from her childhood. She’d always been incredibly savvy in that respect. Which was why she was one of the first to see the writing on the wall years before the Fall.

Almost from the beginning, Aminata put zero trust in the UN’s platitudes to Overwatch. She privately questioned the organization’s default use of them as their military arm. She found their methods of supporting large corporations’ interests over individual nations’ cultural values and self-determination distasteful. She grew suspicious of the UN increasingly feeding conflicting information to Gabe and Jack at the same time “by accident.” There were only so many times one could blame bureaucracy before conspiracy became easier to swallow as a motivation.

Refusing to be a witness to Overwatch’s growing excesses, she retired roughly six years before Swiss Headquarters blew up. Now, she taught chemistry at  _l’École_  in Paris. Like mother, like daughter.

Gabe’s silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity before he replied, “It’s not up to us anymore, Jackie.”

“Yeah, but, she’s  _our_ safecracker-”

“Don’t do this, Jack…”

“Do what?”

“Rush in foolhardy and lit up like the 4th of damn July without some semblance of a plan. All while trying to save someone from themselves,” Gabe grumbled, “Markedly, when said someone doesn’t need saving. She’s made it clear she needs space. Much of it as she damn well pleases.”

Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, Jack snorted, “Still don’t mean I don’t want to tell her I’m…we’re sorry.”

Gabe nodded in disagreement, “Except this isn’t about us anymore.” He dropped a kiss to Jack’s jaw. “Promise me you’ll leave well enough alone?”

“Promise,” Jack swiftly retorted.

Arching a brow, Gabe sat up to lean over him. Gaze burning dusky red for a long while, he finally rolled his eyes before a solidified tendril of coiled smoke snatched at Jack’s wrist under the sheet by his side. He yanked it upward and groaned, “You fucking serious right now, boy scout?”

“What-?”

“All these years and your old ass  _still_ sucks at lying,” Gabe’s smoke shook Jack’s hand. It was impossible for the blonde to relax it from its original position in Gabe’s supernatural hold. “Christ, you can’t just cross your fingers under the blanket and think I’m not going to notice,” he smacked Jack’s side, “What the hell are you, 12?”

Jack’ rueful sigh filled his ears. “Alright, alright,  _fine,”_ he held up both hands in surrender as Gabe uncoiled around from one, “I swear that I’ll give her space, as much as she wants.” Gabe’s huff of agreement met him as he moved to lie back down at Jack’s side. Gabe curling in closer to him, Jack muttered, “So uh, what if space is all she wants to go givin’ us?”

Gabe soothed a hand through Jack’s short locks even as he hollowly replied, “Every action incurs reaction. We take the consequences as they come.”

In any other situation, he would’ve teased Jack over his silent pout. Unfortunately, the current outlook was no laughing matter. And neither of them knew if the breach between them and you could ever be repaired. Only time and circumstance would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Notes and Translations:**  
>  خال – translates to _“khāl.”_ Arabic for maternal uncle.
> 
> Heather flowers are a symbol of good luck in the west.
> 
>  _"Te amo…desde lo más profundo de mi alma.”_ \- Spanish for “I love you…from the bottom of my heart.”
> 
> The idea for Gabe being immortalized in mural form is inspired by this http://solrika.tumblr.com/post/152494728948/reaper-and-his-fans and http://probablydeletethis.tumblr.com/post/161826977430/i-know-that-overwatch-did-their-best-to-erase Because I refuse to believe that my city wouldn’t idolize their hometown boy and one of the saviors of the Omnic Crisis. Even in the aftermath of his “death,” there would be so many conspiracy theories about how Gabe was did wrong, lol. Along with a whole bunch of new RIP murals to him. Also, there are _tons_ of murals everywhere in L.A. and we’re pretty famous for them. 
> 
> Oh, and yes, Gabe says "dude." Because _everyone_ in Southern California, no matter your race or ethnicity, says it, lol. 
> 
> Aminata Ndiaye is my own, random head canon for a character shown in the old black and white Overwatch photo, https://imgur.com/a/GsO6z At least until (or if) OW releases her as a playable hero. She’s ethnically Wolof, who are the largest ethnic group in Senegal, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolof_people She's also Sunni Muslim, born and raised in Dakar. Fluent in her native language of Wolof along with French, English and conversational Arabic.
> 
>  _”Baal ma"_ \- Wolof for “Pardon" or "Sorry”
> 
>  _“rafetna”_ \- Wolof for “beautiful” 
> 
> _“Ñoku boku”_ \- Wolof for “You're welcome"
> 
> SERE – A military acronym for “Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape,” which is a program the U.S. Military trains on how to avoid capture if you’re downed behind enemy lines. Admittedly, I was made aware of the term from a level in the amazing Titanfall 2. Without spoiling anything, a SERE kit provided later in the game is outrageously awesome.
> 
>  _“l’École_ – short for _École normale supérieure_ or ENS Paris is a one of Frances top universities, https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/École_No
> 
> On a random note, Adele’s _“When We Were Young”_ is my song inspiration for Jack and Gabe, as I listen to it whenever writing about them. It’s beautiful, it’s melancholy and it pierces the heart, https://youtu.be/WyVS2N8aK-U


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concerning the timeline; Gabriel is listed as 50 years-old during the Retribution event and Jack is said to be a year younger than him. Which means that Gabriel was born this year, in 2018. And Jack was born in 2019 (Jesus Christ, they’re the next generation of _our children)._
> 
> For this story, Gabe and Jack reach their truce via realizing they were after the same thing but using different methods in finding out who really caused the fall of Overwatch, per Chapter 1. My timeline is that it took them about three to four years to do so. Meaning that by 2079 to 2080, they have their truce. Gabriel voluntarily comes back to Overwatch one year later. This story then takes place two years later, around 2082 to 2083. So add six to seven years to everyone’s ages from the start of the game.
> 
> Of course, due to their enhancements and future tech, Gabe and Jack don’t exactly _look_ their ages…

“Athena?” you called out, staring at the four holoscreens in the dimmed office of your quarters.

_“How my I help you, Safecracker?”_

The image of a glossy, black spinning cube on the holoscreen to your immediate right taunted you. The file came from the flash drive Fareeha dropped off a few days ago. It took you that long just to translate its coding deep enough to recognize its format in the first place. It also matched the pattern parameters you set to search across the dark web and satellite cloud storage facilities for anything related to Mikkel Thygesen.

Except the cube didn’t bear a single source marker. Nor any trace of universal diagnostic language to further identify it.  _Operation Sinclair_ was all it reveled. Despite attempting to crack it for the last 36 hours or so, you only managed to extract its name and location. A hardline server somewhere around Medellín? Assuming that it wasn’t ghosting itself across the globe and satellites using real-time AI.

“Define  _Operation Sinclair_ ,” you requested, “And why in the hell can’t you or I decrypt it via quantically layered algorithms? _”_

_“That information is BW classified. Level 9.”_

You let out a stuttering breath.

Overwatch files were organized under five levels of encryption, the least secure starting at one and increasing. Blackwatch files contained eight levels. And level eights were only accessible to Morrison, Reyes and Ana.

A massive leak to the public revealed the existence and Blackwatch roughly 18 months before the Switzerland explosion. Along with its dirty, murderous deeds that crisscrossed the planet. Reyes was branded a monster. Well, at least by the mainstream media. There proved a massive split in opinion on that one. Mostly based on race and class. Not everyone believed that a solidly middle-class, brown, Westpoint graduate and four-star hero of the Omnic Crisis was wholly responsible for the shit show that spanned a generation. At least not all by his lonesome.

The Blackwatch files immediately available to the public were levels one to three. The fours to sevens required decryption from hackers. Plenty of them were all too willing to try their hands at cracking them for a chance at infamy. Meanwhile, only two level eights had ever been located, broken out and translated. Frankly, no one knew just how many of those were floating around.

Funny thing was, not a single hacker, terrorist group or sovereign country’s intelligence apparatus ever claimed responsibility for the leak itself. The UN’s sweeping polygraph exams and interrogations of Overwatch and Blackwatch bore no results. Reyes’ unredacted report of his internal investigation of its source proved inconclusive as well. Yet rumor had it that the final fight between him and Jack in Switzerland centered around it. The years of manipulations by outside forces had taken their toll. Their relationship utterly broken, coming to Jack with proof of Talon infiltration was no longer an option.

Overwatch was rotted out from the core. Better to burn it to ash than risk the rats escaping the sinking ship. Not that you’d ever confirm such a sentiment aloud.

“Um, Athena?”

_“Yes?”_

“There’s no such thing as Level 9 encryption. So again, what is  _Operation Sinclair?_ ”

There was a long pause before she repeated,  _“That information is BW classified. Level 9.”_

You had your suspicions that either Reyes or Morrison would be the only ones able to open the file. As Ana was second in command behind Morrison at the time.

You needed a break from this bullshit.

* * *

Cutting through the lane of water in the rooftop swimming pool of Watchpoint felt brilliant. Fluttering green and blue lights reflecting up from the bottom of the pool soothed you into autopilot as you swam. Combined with the skylights granting you a glittering view of the starry sky? You’d sell what little was left of your soul for an entire night of this. If only because you were going stir crazy trying to avoid a certain pair of senior shit-izens. Thankfully, neither of them realized you hacked their Watchpoint tracking. It made leaving your quarters for an extended period of time worth the calculated risk.

Hitting the wall of the pool allowed you turn into your next backstroke. A much needed distraction. Because your traitorous mind refused to stop circling back around to the night of Operation Fucking Liars Who Fucking Lie to Get Fucking Laid. It wasn’t as though you could just wander across the hall to Gabe’s quarters to vent out your sexual frustrations on him. Or head down to one of the gyms to get in some combat practice. All before you both ended up in a variety of compromising, naked positions.

 _“Good evening, Safecracker,”_ Athena’s voice echoed from the above,  _“As you wished to be informed of any interruptions, D.Va has arrived.”_

“Thanks, Athena.”

A few more strokes and you touched the wall again just in time to hear a loud splash. Hana smoothly popped back up to the surface before snatching at the plastic lane divider with one hand for balance. Its color matched bright yellow of her bikini. From her clothing line, it was printed with her iconic, sparkly pink bunny head icon. This latest version of the design threw up a peace sign.

Looking you up and down, she wiped her wet hair out of her eyes. Her frown shifted into baring her teeth as she shook her head in disbelief.

“Where in  _the fuck_  have you been for nearly two weeks?” she demanded, “And don’t you dare bullshit me, 공주님. Been missing the hell out of you, yeah?”

You mumbled something about being busy and wondering how she knew your current position.

“After a couple days not seeing you around? Despite that you weren’t on mission?” she rolled her eyes, “Then your quarters wouldn’t let me the hell in? You’re god-damn right I had Athena inform of your whereabouts. Now spill it.”

“I…” you swallowed. Looking away, you softly said, “It’s…complicated…complicated as  _fuck_ -”

It was impossible to escape her other arm reaching out to yank you into a tight hug. There was no need to say a word. Not when the warmth of your tears mixed with the chlorinated water on her shoulder.  

You had no idea how long you treaded water against her.

“C’mon,” she pulled away from you, “Clearly, you need to get some major shit off your chest.”

You followed her under the other lane dividers to climb out of the pool. Sitting on its wonderfully warm, tiled edge with your feet dangling in its heated water, you told her everything in all of its wretched detail. Including dealing with your current mission.

* * *

 “At least the sex wasn’t complete garbage-”

“Are you  _serious_  right now?!” Anyone else and you would’ve shoved them into the pool. Preferably, head first.

She shrugged while passing you a piece of  _yugwa_ out of the tin can of them she bought with her. You tried shooting her a dirty look. Except the  _yugwa_  melted in your mouth in a blend of delicious, crispy, rice sweetness. You may have let out a moan of appreciation. “Hey now,” she retorted, _“_ I’m not the one so dick-a-tized that I had to close up my cooch for a damn fortnight to escape the urge to bang again.”

“Did I somehow fail mention that I’m pissed at being, I don’t know,” you threw your hands up, “Manipulated and fucking lied to?!”

Leaning back on her hands, Hana shook her head in disagreement. “If the sex sucked, you wouldn’t be so concerned. C’mon now, a bad lay and you move the hell on. Meaning,” she pursed her lips, “‘Ole Red, White and Cranky must’ve laid it down on you like a god-damned champ. Otherwise, you wouldn’t give a shit about him. Or Señor Día de los Muertos.” Rendering you speechless and slowly blinking, the corner of her mouth twitched. “So that hot, huh? Knew he had it in him,” she let out a low whistle, “Daddy 76 for the win.”

It took a handful of more  _yugwa_ stuffed in your mouth before you finally found words. “You may be deep up in your twenties now. But he’s still old enough to be your father.”

“And not yours?” she ran her tongue along a canine with a wink.

“Just how old do you think I am?” you snorted.

“That’s a fucking trap and you know it,” she smirked.

“Touché,” you softly chuckled. Good lord, how long had it been since you heard that sound coming out of you?

Hana leaned back to lie on the tiling of the floor. One arm behind her head, she framed the view of the sky between other fingers. Her feet splashed for a bit before she breezily declared, "Gotta agree with you on your other points."

"Those being?"

"They both deserve to be tossed off the roof of Watchpoint. Let's see if those billion-dollar enhancements keep the busted-ass bones and major head trauma at bay, the 개새끼." 

It was impossible to hold in your braying laughter as you returned her fist bump. "Solidarity," you vainly tried to catch your breath.

"Chicks before dicks," she emphatically nodded. 

You both continued working through the tin of  _yugwa_  as Hana told you of her latest escapes back home in Seoul.

She still carried out missions for MEKA. However, she preferred training up the new generation of pilots versus leading missions as a senior officer. With the omnic constantly evolving off the coast of her country, adding to the young ranks was top priority. Especially in light of the scandals that eventually brought her to Overwatch.

It turned out her old MEKA commanders were essentially renting out her fellow pilots for moonlighting missions. Missions to other state actors and anyone else who could afford them. Including criminals and terrorists. The commanders took a 70/30 split of the profits to keep in illegal, tax evading accounts. They eventually worked their way up the food chain until Hana got a request. Mysteriously, reporters were tipped off about right around that time. Posing as potential clients for the commanders, reporters recorded a supposed contract being set up. Within months, the commanders were stripped of their rank, tried and imprisoned.

Hana came out clean but disillusioned. Which is how she found her way to Overwatch. At same time, MEKA needed a dramatic overhaul. She refused to become a mission officer despite her rank as a three star  _Jungjang_  or Lieutenant General. An agreement was eventually hashed out for her to assist in training the new recruits. As well as lend her name and image to the newly reformed program. Still secretly part of Overwatch, her membership allowed her access to people like you. As you cracked MEKA’s servers and ran remediations on them that allowed her to monitor the new administration without a trace. Your work also allowed her plausible deniability if caught.

“Sounds like you need a new mission to occupy yourself,” her voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“My current one on is on-going.”

“Take off a couple of day then,” she insisted.

“Can’t-”

“Don’t you have to go to Columbia to dig up dirt on that  _Operation Sinclair_ bullshit?”

You grit your teeth. “The senior shit-izens  _will_ unlock it.”

Her loud cackle as she bumped her shoulder against yours caused you to sigh. “You know damn well they’re going to cock-block you at every shitty turn.”

“It’s mission-related.”

“Doesn’t mean they’ll play fair…we’re going to Columbia,” she swiftly moved to her feet and held out a hand to help you up.

You looked at her with a chagrinned expression. “I am not-”

“Packing for Columbia?” she snickered, “Yeah, you should get on that,” she grabbed your hand to haul you to your feet.

“But I need to-”

“Sombra’s not due with her data dump for another 72 hours,” she waved off. “Besides, you can pick that up anywhere. No reason for you be at home.”

You caught the towel she threw at you. “I am  _not_  in the mood to travel, Hana!” Turning around, her innocent expression caused you to let out a loud groan and wipe a hand down your face. None of it was helped along by her sudden, maniacal laughter as she elegantly dove back into the pool. “Hope you drop from being the third most famous face in Korea to off the damn list,” you snorted.

“Shut the fuck up, trying to work out here,” she chirped as she started a graceful lap. You threw up a middle finger even as you took a seat in one of the beach chairs surrounding the pool. “Hope your Spanish is still intact!” she called out.

To her credit, no one could never accuse Hana of playing it safe.

* * *

After a long nap, you were forced venture down to the mess hall since you’d run out of food. Your delivery of supplies wasn’t due until this evening. You wolfed everything down as quickly as possible since the commanders were currently only one floor up from your location.

It hadn’t been  _that_ long since you refused to see them. Hell, it was nothing compared the years of laying low after Overwatch fell. The real problem lay in the fact that you needed the Conspiring Commanders to unlock  _Operation Sinclair_. Reyes in particular since it was clearly a Blackwatch file. Sure, you could go to Ana. But you refused to give either one of the Super Chumps anything to dangle over your head when it came to bypassing ranks and protocols. That card would only be used if things got  _really_ shitty. 

Finishing breakfast, you sent both of them a blunt email to meet you this evening in a prearranged chat room. There was no way you were going to make the effort to change into regular clothes for either of them. Let them come to you. Over the internal chat system.

 _“Your scheduled delivery has arrived,”_ Athena announced.

It was perfect timing as you logged off for the day. The groceries would last you right up to the holidays. Glancing out of the sleek glass of the floor to ceiling windows, you were glad you were snugly inside versus in the field. Lightning slashed across the sky as rain pounded down. The roar of the sea breaking against Gibraltar’s stone could be heard despite heavily reinforced windows.

“Thanks Athena,” you tiredly replied.

You pulled on a long sweater over your t-shirt and sweatpants. No need to look like total crap in front of the mail crew. Except they sure in the hell weren’t the ones who greeted you as your flung open the door.

“How in  _the fuck_  did you manage to-?!” you hissed.

“Swapped both our biometrics with a couple of other agents’ in the server,” Reyes drawled while shadow-stepping into your apartment.

You froze at his words. It gave Morrison plenty of time to march in. As Reyes re-formed himself into sitting on your couch, it occurred to you that he could’ve accessed your place at any time. It wasn’t like you’d electrified the vents or crevices.

“Athena?!” you barked, “Where are Commander Reyes and Morrison right now?”

_“Judging by the change in room temperature and my aural sensors, it appears they are both in your quarters-”_

“No shit!” you angrily interrupted. Reyes’ harsh chuckle earned him your murderous expression. Which he didn’t bother to acknowledge. “I meant, where do you record their biometric locations?”

There was a long pause.  _“I record Commander Reyes and Morrison’s locations in the gym on the 4 th floor…I will have Winston look in patching this potential security breach.”_

“Last I checked, tracking other agents’ locations without their express permission is forbidden,” Reyes shrugged while idly flipping through a book on your coffee table. “Am I correct in my assumption, Athena?”

_“You are correct, Commander Reyes. Per Article 26, Section 3.05(g), subsection iii of the Code of Honor Handbook.”_

“Also? Worthy of a reprimand,” his scarlet gaze captured yours, “Both in person and on an agent’s record, no less. Right, Athena?”

_“Correct again, Commander Reyes.”_

You kicked the door closed behind you before stalking past Morrison. You ignored how he squinted, gaze darting back and forth between you and Reyes as you snarled, “Commander Amari has likely already read my Hong Kong report. So you wouldn’t dare!”

“Try. Me,” Reyes flatly said.

Morrison muttered something under his breath behind you as you leveled a look at Reyes. You swore you would have won the staring contest if Athena didn’t interrupt.

_“To be clear, Safecracker, would you like me to discount the biometric error?”_

You grit your teeth. “You may disregard the biometric,” you shot both men a glare,  _“Mix-up.”_

 _“Affirmative.”_ She somehow sounded amused. Weren’t computers supposed to be devoid of emotion? It wasn’t like she was an omnic.

Reyes went back to flipping through your book. “Disappointing that you failed to realize I excel at predicting other people’s behavior,” he coolly announced, “Chiefly, yours.” Your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to come up with a response that wasn’t a threat. Or curse-ridden. He drummed his fingers on your holotablet sitting next to him for a long moment. “There’s no way in hell you’ve been able to avoid either of us for this long without digital assistance.”

“Haven’t seen you in your office,” Morrison grunted. Leaning against the bookshelf behind the couch, he rubbed the back of his neck. His bicep flexed with his movement. Christ, why did they both insist on wearing t-shirts at least a size too small? Weren’t there any other sizes besides smedium? It was distracting as hell. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

"Unless I’m out in the field, which is thankfully rare,” you growled, “I’m allowed to work from home. I’ve made it incredibly clear that I don’t want to lay eyes on either of you. I sent you a message to meet in a  _chat room.”_

“Never had the pleasure of being ignored for so damn long” Morrison sarcastically retorted.

“Cry me a fuckin’ river.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Take a  _seat_ , Commander,” you stabbed a finger at your couch, “Or do you want to save me the trouble and get the hell out?”

His gaze snapped to stormy azure, the deadly soldier swimming up to the surface for a few, anxious seconds. It abruptly occurred to you that you were absolutely no match for him if he refused to leave.

_Shit._

You swallowed down a shaky sigh as his expression went back to neutral. He deliberately dropped down to sit on the couch opposite Reyes. “We need to talk to you-”

“About how Mikkel Thygesen’s threat level needs upgrade to priority red?” You twitched your fingers to bring up a handful of holoscreens between you and them. Dragging a chair from your dining table, you set it as far from them as possible before taking a seat.

Morrison sniffed, “Obviously don’t mean  _that-”_

“Fareeha’s file has been invaluable for datamining the attempted Yama breach,” you talked over him. “84% of its  terrabytes are identical to those found on the files extracted out of Hong Kong. Additionally, trace fragments of a file labeled  _Operation Sinclair_  from the Yama drive were discovered on the Hong Kong files. Meaning Thygesen was likely there to retrieve his backups from that Talon server. Except I got there first.” Enlarging the holoscreen highlighted the graphical cube of  _Sinclair_. “Would one of you care to explain what the hell a Level 9 file is? Rather curious how Athena’s AI finds it impossible to crack. And I need it cracked.  _Now.”_

You looked up at them for the first time in a while to see Morrison stiffly staring straight ahead. Reyes’ form struggled to remain solidified, his gaze locked on Morrison.

"Don’t tell me you two colluded to murder babies and  _Sinclair_ is the mission report?” you choked out a strained laugh to stave off the bile rising in your throat.

It was deathly silent.

“Holy hell-”

“It is impossible to open now,” Reyes retorted while holding up a hand. Wiggling his fingers, flesh and bones dissipated into swirls of opaque, black smoke. “No more fingerprints.”

“Yeah,” you coughed, “I’m gonna call bullshit shenanigans on that one.”

Morrison slowly shrugged. “He’s got a hell of a point. Can’t exactly take prints from ‘im. Even if you could,” he worried his lower lip with his teeth, “His temperature ain’t quite, uh, human anymore.”

“Except for the failsafes in place to ensure file accessibility,” you addressed Reyes while refusing to turn to Morrison. You could almost feel the wave of blistering irritation rolling off the soldier. “Agents, specifically spec ops ones, don't always return. Hence, all of the file protocols to guarantee nothing remains locked.”

Reyes snorted, “Can’t be opened.”

“Obviously, your fuck up with me is blinding you to the mission at hand,” you clenched a fist. “Open the file-”

“Above your pay grade.”

“We are literally running an illegal operation here!” you waved around the room. “The only reason it stays funded is through the layers upon insane layers of shell companies still making money that Petras Investigation never dug up. On account of both of you. I don’t have a fucking pay grade anymore. None of us do since we’re all technically, I don’t know,  _terrorists?!”_

Reyes crossed his arms and growled, “Classified-”

“Yet you released it with the rest of the Blackwatch files when you blew everything open all those years ago?” you sneered. Morrison cleared his throat and shifted so hard in his seat that your couch groaned in protest. “If you didn’t want it floating around out there-”

“Never released Level Nines,” Reyes barked.

“It was stolen then?” you arched a brow. “You’re telling me that Thygesen managed to burrow so deep and hard into the old Blackwatch servers, which for some reason were never wiped clean, that he was able to locate a file level even I wasn’t aware of? All despite how I worked with Blackwatch for years as the master safecracker and remediator?”

The urge to smack Morrison across the face at how hard he rolled his eyes bubbled up. It grew ten-fold as he huffed, _“Clearly.”_

You dropped you head into your hands, shoulders heaving. “This is…this is a fucking disaster!” you hissed, “Particularly considering he  _left it behind_  during his Yama attempt. He’s absolutely aware that it’s impossible to unleash any of the God Programs remotely.”

Morrison’s words were so low that you strained to hear them. “It’s a trap-”

“No shit!” you snarled. You swiped closed all the screens except for the partition displaying  _Operation Sinclair_. “I need you two…or one of you," you pointedly addressed Reyes, "To tell what the hell I’m dealing with.”

“It ain’t a virus,” Morrison quietly said.

“Because its AI protections render that impossible,” Reyes added.

You flicked your fingers so hard at them that you accidently opened another holosceen. “Doesn’t explain why the two of you are so dodgy about its contents. Nothing can be so deplorable about past missions that we don’t already know.” The two of them exchanged a look that had your stomach lurching. “Fine,” you drew yourself up in your chair, “I’ll take this to Ana then.”

Reyes’ smirk nearly cost you your self-control. “She would never put this organization in such jeopardy.”

“Thank you for _finally_   confirming importance of this operation,” you thinly smiled, jerking a finger through the holoscreen. 

“You really don’t wanto go digging yourself a new hole,” Morrison warned, eyes flashing.

You swiped closed the holoscreens and rocked to your feet. “Wasn’t aware I was working on an original one. Now,” you turned your back on them and wandered towards your kitchen, “If the two of you don’t get out, I’ll resign so fast that not even your fucking smoke or your tactical fucking visor will be able to see it. After that? Back off the grid. Don’t even entertain the notion that you’ll be able to find me.”

“We caught up with you once,” Reyes hissed, “Or have you forgotten your good old Blackwatch days?”

“Gabriel-”

“Oh, no need to stop him, Morrison,” you spun on your heel to face him. You took furious pleasure at how he flinched at your lack of calling him by his first name. “I was too much of a naïve dipshit to realize working with liars, thieves, killers and mercenaries is akin to a death sentence. Yes, Blackwatch caught up with me.” you spat. “Funny thing is, they were excellent teachers. Or do neither of you remember how you couldn’t find me after the Fall until I was dumb enough to reveal myself? Besides, how in the hell was I supposed to prep for  _dead men_ locating me?!"

"After that, I came back because I _wanted to._  Disappeared once, I can damn well do it again. So Reyes is absolutely correct that I remember everything from Blackwatch; there’s nothing the both you crave more in the world than always being so fucking right.”

“That’s a new low,” Morrison grit, “Even for you, safecracker.”

You curled your lip with derision. “Wanna talk about lows now?” your voice rose, “How’s living in that glass house going for you so far? You all out of more rocks to toss?”

He was up from his seat so fast that it took your brain nearly a minute to comprehend his change in position. “Conversation  _over.”_

Your door creaked on its hinges from how hard he yanked it open. The freezing swirl of damp, black smoke reeking of carbon and the sickly sweet scent of marigolds followed by the slam of the door signaled that Reyes followed Morrison out of your quarters.

“Fuck you both!” you yelled, “Going to Ana any damnway!”

Somehow, your tirade seemed a hollow victory in the fresh emptiness of your quarters.

* * *

You’d sent the  _Operation Sinclair_  info to Ana as soon as it blocked you. Your summons to her office came roughly an hour after your confrontation with surly Nomad and his irate Winter Soldier.

At your knock, her holographic image flashed within the glass of her door.

“You may enter.”

The walls of her office were painted in a dusky, rich, terracotta. Their tasteful gold accents lent the space a homey coziness. The heavy cherrywood desk located near its back faced the window. A large digital frame took up its entire left corner. It cycled through various holographic images ranging from pictures of the old Overwatch team to images of Fareeha at various ages. Two chairs in the neoclassical revival style and upholstered with plush orange and white fabric sat in front of the desk. Always preferring to feel the pages of the books she read for pleasure, shelves of them lined the walls at various levels. Bracketed in between the volumes were assorted trinkets from her travels.

Ana’s back was to you where she stood next to a small sink to the left of the desk. She wore a flowing turquoise tunic over fitted pale pants. The thick tumble of her white hair was plaited back into its usual braid. A matching turquoise  _rezza_ shot through with gold thread wrapped around her head. All in all, she appeared more civilian than soldier.

“Your mission report proved most fascinating," Ana serenely began. "Combined with Fareeha’s visit, life has been rather interesting for you as of late.” She turned to reveal the silver tea service balanced in her hands. The smell of black tea wafting around you immediately caused you relax and steady your breathing. “I believe you would prefer this meeting to be on the informal side?” You let out a loud exhalation and slouched in your seat. “Yes,” she lightly continued and set down the tray on her desk, “That would be best. How about we come to an agreement?”

“I’m open to that, Commander-”

 _“Ana,”_  she swiftly corrected, “The circumstances render little need for rank at the moment.” She poured two steaming cups and slid one over to you. Sitting down, she pulled open one of the bottom drawers to reveal a half finished packet of digestive biscuits. “As I was saying,” she added a dash of sugar to her cup, “Perhaps we should begin with what occurred in Hong Kong?”

You took an inordinately long amount of time to adjust the taste of your tea with sugar and cream before lining up a handful of cookies on your side of the tray. You were halfway through them before you spilled your guts.

You were relieved she didn’t appear appalled. Or even mildly stunned. Then again, this was a hero of the Omnic Crisis. An elite master sniper. She fooled the world into thinking her dead and remained off-grid for years until she deemed it fit to reveal herself. She raised a badass in her own right in Fareeha. Honestly? You felt as though this was petty bullshit that you really shouldn’t be wasting her time with.

“Those two have always been difficult to handle,” Ana’s words washed over you while she poured you another cup.

“Back in the old days, I only dealt with Morrison in passing,” you huffed, “Reyes was plenty enough.”

“Was?”

“Before everything…changed. With the fall,” you clarified.

Ana leaned back in her chair, eyes searching your face. “And now?”

You chewed on another cookie and added sugar and cream to your fresh cup of tea. “They mellowed, like the rest of us. But in Hong Kong, Jack...he just...he kept nattering on and on…” you closed your eyes, recalling his ramblings.

“ _All three of us together…just wanna see you both happy…sweet Gabe…you…both…this is real…”_

 You nearly dropped your teacup. Ana’s gaze flicked to your fingers tightening around its handle. “Not interested in the burden of being the peacemaker between them."

Her knowing look caught you off guard. “To be honest, I never was either.”

“I assumed that was why you were assigned as Jack’s second in command?” you slowly asked. “Especially with Gabriel doing all the shadow ops and forming Blackwatch?”

Ana’s stern expression froze you in your seat. But it was gone within a blink of an eye. “Athena?” she ordered.

_“How may I assist you, Commander Amari?”_

“Engage privacy protocols at the highest level. Disengage recordings until otherwise instructed.”

_“Affirmed, Commander Amari.”_

You wildly looked around only to find Ana’s posture the most relaxed you’d seen her in, well, forever. Leaning back in the leather chair, she took a long sip of tea. “Um,” you stammered, “I take it nothing leaves this room from here on out?”

“You’ve always been cleverer than you look,” she smoothly replied. “People tend to underestimate you as a result, which you constantly use to your advantage. It’s rendered you a worthy asset. And fearsome enemy.”

“So that’s a yes,” you muttered.

Ana glided from her seat and poured out the old batch from the kettle. It took some time for her to heat more water and steep a new bag before she returned to her desk. As you'd torn through  the bag of biscuits, she pulled another one out. These ones were glazed in chocolate. Comfort food, you figured.

”During the crisis, I swiftly came know how war brings out either the best or worst in people,” she sighed while staring off into the middle distance. She also managed to pour herself another cup of tea without a single drop escaping her cup.  “We were incredibly fortunate that our strong personalities resulted in the former. Despite how we fought under some of the worst circumstances imaginable.”

You were well aware that all the posters, movies and propaganda in the world never seemed to get any of that right.

“I also realized Jack and Gabriel function best with, let us call it, _balance._   It became all the more obvious as they were forced from defense to offense when the war ended. Combined with the constant scrutiny of peacetime?”

“Things go boom,” you sucked in your breath between your teeth.

Ana’s gaze snapped to you. “In more ways than one. So I certainly was not surprised when they eventually found their way to me as old counterweights drifted out of their lives. On both a professional…and personal level.”

You blamed your slow mind on being exhausted and annoyed. Mulling over the words, you suddenly clapped a hand over your mouth. Ana’s grin deepened as you met her eyes. “Why  _Ana!”_ you let out a shocked gurgle, “You…them…it didn’t even come down the gossip pipeline. Hell, a whiff that and all of you would’ve murdered us!”

Ana’s warm chuckle filled the air. “Oh, dear child,” she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, “We are soldiers and spies. Our occupations require constant secrecy. Be it for months. Or years. ”

“ _Years?!”_

 _“_ Just because one decides not to buy the tea does not mean they should not sample it. All the better to arrive to a final decision.” Shrugging at your slack-jacked expression, she tossed her braid over her shoulder. “While the tea flavors may have been to my liking, deep in my heart, I knew they would not be compatible to my tastes in the long term. Meeting Fareeha’s father made that wonderfully clear. Besides,” her eyes sparkled, “We are all young but only once.”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment until you clapped it shut. “No wonder the recruits adore and fear you.”

Throwing her head back in laughter, it wrapped you in a comfort you hadn’t felt since before your mission. However, her expression shifted to serious as she reached across the table to take your hands in hers. “I only reveal this so that you are aware that I have been in your position. I fully comprehend the difficulties of your situation. Which is why it is imperative to always remember that it is  _you_ who is ultimately in full control of your happiness. No matter how much others attempt to wrest it away.”

You blurted out, “Don’t think they want me miserable-”

“And there it is,” Ana quietly interrupted, “Yet I understand if you walk away completely.”

Rapidly blinking, you pulled your hands from hers to rest them in your lap. It made it easier for you to focus on them as you whispered, “How they went about everything was fucked…messed up,” you quickly corrected yourself.

Ana shook her head in agreement. “You are in the middle of the tunnel and the light at end is beyond your sight.”

“They didn’t bother taking what I potentially wanted into account,” you balled your fists. Your nails dug so hard into your palms that they left painful indentations. “How in the  _fuc…the hell_  am I supposed to ever trust myself with them again? I wanted to choke them both out when they had the nerve to show up at my door.”

“No matter the intentions, we must always ensure the methods to enact them are done with as little harm as possible," Ana declared. "Frankly, I thought Jack and Gabriel would have learned by now. How unfortunate for them both. Old dogs, new tricks and all.”

You momentarily grinned. “Fareeha said as much when she dropped off the Yama file.”

“My daughter never ceases to amaze,” Ana proudly replied. “In the meantime, concerning what you’re found on this Thygesen character, it is good for you to get from behind the desk. If only to keep your fieldwork skills on par,” she hummed. “You should use the next two days to track down the file source.” At your frown, she added, “Should you retrieve no results, I will order both Commanders to immediately grant permissions for full decryption.”

Your sigh of relief filled the room. “It’s greatly appreciated, Ana.”

Her searching gaze swept over you. “Do you also require me to order them to stay away from you?”

Well, when she put it like that, it made the lot of you sound like children mucking about on the playground. “No,” you held up a hand of reassurance, “I’m handling it.”

“I can also ensure that you never have to work with either of them again,” she insisted, “Your assignments would remain of the highest quality, of course.”

“I…don’t think I need to do that. Not yet.”

“Would you like me to find other quarters for them both to avoid any additional hostilities?” Ana steepled her fingers together. “They can be moved while you’re out on mission to avoid confrontation.” You slowly nodded in disagreement. “Either way, should you chose reconciliation or to end things between yourself and them, I’d like to remain informed of any significant changes to the situation.”

Anger cracked and shifted in your gut. You hoped it didn’t show on your face. “I’ll keep that it mind,” you flatly said.

“Hmm,” Ana nonchalantly replied, “We are an odd and some would say greatly damaged group here at Overwatch. We need all the friends we may wrangle. No matter your decision, إذا فرغ الفؤاد ذهب الرقاد.” At your confused expression, she gently said, “It essentially means,  _‘If the heart is empty, the rest will soon abandon you too_.’ Always remember you have people here who wish you well.” Rising from her desk, she took the tray with the empty cups and saucers back to the sink. “Is there anything else you require?” she called out as she began cleaning them.

Standing up and saluting, you replied, “That covers everything. Thank you, Ana.”

“Anytime,” she turned to give you a smile.

Heading to your floor, you mind spun with Ana’s revelations. It was going to be an interesting next few days.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Notes and Translations (again, feel free to correct any language errors):**
> 
> 공주님 – Pronounced _“gongjunim.”_ Korean for “princess.”
> 
>  _Yugwa_ – A Korean dessert that made of rice flour and deep-fried, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yugwa. And yeah, they’re delicious.
> 
> 개새끼 - Pronounced _"gaesaekki ."_ Korean equivalent for "son of a bitch."
> 
>  _rezza_ \- the Egyptian version of the _keffiyeh_ or headdress scarf, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keffiyeh
> 
>  _“…damp, black smoke reeked of carbon and the sickly sweet scent of marigolds…”_ \- My headcannon of how Gabriel smells when he’s in smoke form. 
> 
> He smells damp because the human body is made up of about 65% water. Since he’s always breaking down and regenerating (though in this fic, Angela and Winston helped stabilize him, so it’s no longer a painful process unless he pushes himself to the limit), he’s constantly losing water. So the process of regeneration allows him to pull moisture out of the air, especially when he’s phasing around. He smells like carbon since the next largest element comprising the human body is carbon, at 18%.
> 
> The scent of marigolds is something Gabe’s projected onto himself in his smoky form. This is due to marigolds’ association with death and Dia de los Muertos. Traditionally, marigolds are placed on altars during the holiday because their bright colors and strong scent are said to attract the spirits of the dead who return to visit their loved ones on earth. In Los Angeles, where Gabriel is from, Dia de los Muertos decorations are seen side by side with Halloween décor (hmm, perhaps that’s why Gabriel seems to _love_ Halloween per the Junkenstein comic?). Marigolds also naturally grow in Southern California. So I see Gabe using his Latino childhood traditions and cultural stories to help cope with his post-Swiss Headquarters form since he’s styled himself as Death Incarnate.
> 
> For example, the movie _Coco_ does a stunning job of highlighting the importance of marigolds in this tradition:


End file.
